Hetalia's Christmas Tree
by Gothic Dancer
Summary: A series of one-shots for Lady GaGa's "Christmas Tree." Christmas-themed side stories for "The Hetalian Monster." 8th Christmas Tree: Bad Romance
1. 1st CT: Alejandro

**Author's Note: **Welcome back! Yup, I'm writing more Hetalia/GaGa one-shots for all of you. This time, however, things are a bit different. Instead of a series of one-shots for individual songs on an album, I'll be writing a series of one-shots for one song: "Christmas Tree." It's my holiday gift to all of you_ Hetalian Monster_ and_ Hetalian Fame_ fans! :D These one-shots will each go along one of the eight timelines begun in _The Hetalian Monster_. We're going to start with "Alejandro" first though and end with "Bad Romance," because I always have to end with "Bad Romance" in one way or another. XD

So sit back, relax, turn on a Lady GaGa CD, eat a plate of pasta, and wonder what your holiday present will be. It's time to continue with _Hetalia's Christmas Tree_!

On another note, what should I call this project? "25 Days of Hetalian Monsters?" XD

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**Meet Me Next to Alejandro's Christmas Tree**

"Ve~ ve, ve, ve~ Hee hee~"

Romano glanced over his shoulder at his little brother as he set the rack of biscotti down into the oven. "What are you so damn happy about?" he snapped as he took the oven mitts off his warm hands and set them down on the counter. He set the timer and made a note to come back to the oven in half that time to flip the biscotti so they'd bake evenly. The whole time, Italy kept giggling. In all honesty, Romano didn't care about what was making his little brother so happy, but the little squeals the young man was making were starting to get annoying. He just wanted Italy to shut up.

Italy looked back at his older brother with a sunny smile. "Ve! Prussia invited me over to his and Germany's house to go to a Christmas market in Berlin! I'm so excited, ve. I've never been to a German Christmas market before. They're supposed to be the best in the world!"

Romano's face turned red with rage. "There is no way in hell you're going to the Potato Bastard Brothers' house for one of THEIR potato-filled Christmas traditions! The markets there only sell potatoes and wurst!" He was close to screaming as he nearly kicked the oven door in.

"Ve, Big Brother," Italy murmured, this time a bit sadly, "you don't have to come if you don't want to, but Prussia said you could come in his letter, see?" He tried to pass the paper and envelope to his older brother, but Romano refused even to touch it, claiming it was covered in wurst grease.

"I'm not letting you go either!" he continued, shouting as he slammed his fist down on the kitchen counter. "Those bastards are corrupting your mind, dammit! And...and...and I'm working so damn hard to make you biscotti. Before I know it, you're only going to eat stupid potato cookies!"

Italy frowned. "Ve, Romano, I'm only going to Germany's house for a few days later this month. It's only the beginning of December! There's plenty of time for me to eat your biscotti as soon as it's done this afternoon." The little Italian smiled again and walked over to the oven. "I'm sure they're delicious!"

Romano looked as though he could break down crying at any moment. He rubbed his reddening eyes and turned away from his brother. "You're just saying that, you jerk..."

"Ve, Brother," Italy began again, "are you feeling okay? You don't seem to be very happy even though Christmas is coming. Not that you're ever really that happy..." He stopped when his brother started to shake. "But I'm just wondering if you're angry at me...because I'm going to Germany and Prussia's house."

Romano spun around and glared angrily into his brother's closed eyes. His cheeks were bright red and puffed out, and his eyes were glazed with rage. "OF COURSE I'm angry at you for going to the Potato Bastard Brothers' house! I just SAID that, Veneciano! Are you THAT MUCH of an idiot?" He panted heavily in hopes of calming his crazed heartbeat.

Italy shook his head, frowning. "That's not what I meant, Big Brother. I meant...are you angry because I have someone to go to...and you haven't been invited anywhere?"

Romano paled, taking a step back. His hands shook violently as he tried to ignore the little voice in his head saying that Italy had nailed it. Biting his lip, Romano turned away from his brother a second time and stared out the kitchen window. Snow had not yet come to Rome, but some of the northern towns of Italy had started to see some of the white stuff, so it couldn't be too far away. It didn't matter to Romano though. After all, he was part of the southern part of Italy, which was warm all year round. It wasn't to say that Romano never got snow, but it was rare.

Just another thing Italy got that Romano didn't.

"That has nothing to do with it."

Italy frowned.

"I'm going out."

Romano snatched his winter coat from the nearby closet and stormed out of the home, slamming the door behind him. Italy winced at the loud sound and looked at the oven.

"But Prussia invited you, too, Romano," he murmured sadly, staring at the oven window. "And...if you leave now, your biscotti won't get flipped. Ve..."

* * *

Romano could see his breath as he came to a stop, panting heavily from running all the way from his and his brother's home to the middle of Rome. He fixed the collar on his coat and stared at the people gathered around the Barcaccia Fountain, walking, standing, sitting, eating, smiling, laughing...What the hell? _What gave them the right to be so damn happy? _Romano thought bitterly, tearing his eyes away from the crowds. He trudged along, sitting down on one of the bottom steps near the fountain.

He stayed like that for several long minutes, trying not to look at the people enjoying the sweet life on that slightly cold evening. _Stupid tourists,_ he thought, though the people there were actually both tourists and locals. They were an easy crowd to blame though, and Romano was angry enough to blame even the locals at the time.

He didn't need to go to anybody's house for Christmas. It was better if he stayed in Italy, preferably in his southern half. Maybe he'd go to Sicily.

But that wouldn't work. People from Sicily considered themselves Sicilian before they considered themselves Italian. It was like two completely different countries.

And yet all the people in the northern half considered themselves Italian.

"Not like I care," Romano muttered curling his legs towards his chest and hugging them. "If they don't consider themselves Italian, it's their loss." He glanced up again to see more happy people gathering around the fountain. Their bright smiles matched Italy's, and it made Romano sick.

Italy was way too happy to leave Romano for other countries, especially Germany. If it was someone else, it might not be so bad, but Romano couldn't understand why Italy loved Germany and his brother so much. They didn't make delicious pasta or pizza, and the food they did make was covered in thick meat sauces and came with mushy potatoes. Every single damn meal! And Romano didn't even want to think about all the beer. Wine was so much better, so much more refined and elegant. Beer tasted disgusting and was what unsophisticated drunkards shoved down their throats right before getting into bar fights. Romano couldn't find the appeal in it.

No, Romano didn't like Germany at all. He didn't really like anyone at all, but Germany was the worst.

And yet Italy...

Romano shook his head. "Dammit, you are NOT jealous of him!" he shouted at himself, scaring a few tourists who were sitting by him. He glared up at them and shouted a string of insults and curses in Italian, to which the tourists exchanged nervous glances, got up, and left. When Romano finally stopped, he realized that they were gone.

"...Dammit."

"Romano?"

The Italian's eyes snapped open, and he turned his head towards the top of the steps. Spain smiled, waved to him, and hurried down to the bottom level. "_Buenas tardes,_ Romano. You remember your Spanish, _si_?"

"Bastard!" Romano shouted, pushing Spain away. "Shut up! I don't belong to you anymore! I haven't belonged to you for years!" He turned away stubbornly and buried his face into his arms crossed over his knees.

Spain smiled again. "Yes, yes, I know, you and Italy have been on your own since 1861. I remember, Romano, I remember! It was a very special day." He sat down next to the little Italian and looked up at the darkening sky. "I can't believe that it's already December! The Christmas traditions are beginning! Oh yeah, I just remembered. Prussia told me that he invited you and Italy to his house to go shopping at one of the Christmas markets in Berlin. Are you going?"

"SHUT UP!"

More tourists got up and left.

Romano turned to Spain and glared into his eyes. "Shut up, Tomato Bastard," he repeated. "There is no way in hell I would ever, EVER go to the Potato Bastard Brothers' country, not if you paid me all the euros in Europe and got me out of this damn recession. Not if you supplied me with a lifetime of the best tomatoes ever grown."

Spain just smiled some more. "Well, unfortunately," he began cheerily, "I can't help you much about your recession because my own is pretty bad, much worse than yours. But don't worry! I'm sure it'll get better soon! And I already supply you with as many delicious tomatoes as I can, because I know how you love them so. So...maybe you would go to Germany if I gave you a lifetime's supply of kisses?"

"YOU PERVERTED TOMATO BASTARD!" Romano's cheeks lit up bright red, flushing and puffing out so they were round and juicy-looking.

Spain found it all very tempting. "You always look like a tomato when you're mad, Romano." He laughed a bit and reached into his pocket. "I was going to go to your house to give you this, but since I've found you here, you can have it now. Merry Early Christmas!" He pulled a big, bright, flawless tomato out of his pocket and set it down in Romano's shaking hands. "Do you like it?"

Romano's head dropped. "Stop..."

"Hm? What was that?"

"Stop, please!" Romano begged, looking up at Spain with teary eyes. "Just let me go, Antonio, just let me go!" He stuck the tomato as well as both hands into his pockets and wouldn't look at him. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo...I'm not yours..."

Spain smiled gently and his eyes softened as he inched closer to Romano. "I know you're not," he replied casually. "However, I can still love you."

"Shut up...stupid..."

"After all, we're at the Spanish Steps here in Rome. A Spaniard in the middle of Italy isn't so strange, now is it?"

Silence.

Romano desperately wanted to scream at Spain. "Don't call my name!" he wanted to cry, but the words wouldn't come. And if they did try to come, they hurt Romano so badly that the only thing he could do was swallow them. "I wish I didn't love you," was what he really wanted to say, but those words never came.

Strange, because they were very true.

Spain wrapped an arm around the little Italian and smiled, leaning the boy's head against his shoulder. He turned to Romano's ear and whispered, "Why don't you come to my house for a Christmas celebration?"

Romano's eyes popped open.

"I'll make you mantecados cookies and everything."

"Bastard."

"Hm?"

"I'll bring biscotti."

END

Notes: Biscotti are traditional, Italian cookies that are twice-baked and very hard. They're usually served with a hot drink, like coffee or hot chocolate, so that you can dunk them and make them easier to eat. I don't really know if Italians make and eat them a lot during Christmas, but my mom makes fantastic biscotti, and she only makes the cookies during the holidays, so I figured it was close enough (But don't take my word on that at all. My family is Norwegian, not Italian.). XD Mantecados cookies, on the other hand, are traditional, Spanish pastries made and eaten during the holiday season. I've never had them, but I want to try them!

The Barcaccia Fountain was constructed in 1598 by order of the Pope Urbano VIII. It was made in memory of a disastrous flood (from the Tevere River) earlier that year. It lies at the bottom of the Spanish Steps, which were built between 1723 and 1726. They were designed by Francesco de Sanctis. The area surrounding the Spanish Steps is where to find all the high-end designer stores like Gucci and Prada. It's a popular place for tourists as well as locals to gather. And I can tell you from my own trip to Rome that it's quite a spectacular sight.

And you probably know this, but Italy was unified in 1861, on March 17th.


	2. 2nd CT: Monster

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**A Christmas Tree Fit for a Monster**

_Riiiiiiiing...riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing...riiii-!_

"Hello?"

"Uh, yes! Hello, uh...Iceland?"

"Yeah?"

"Oh, good, it is you! Sorry, I...uh..."

"Who is this?"

"What? Oh! It's, uh, Lithuania."

"Oh, hello, did you need something?"

Lithuania sat in his living room, fidgeting nervously with the frayed hem on his faded jeans as he shakily held the cell phone to his ear. Did he need something from Iceland? Well, that depended on what Iceland's definition of "need" was. Lithuania cleared his throat and tried to speak more understandably. How did one say "to need" in Icelandic?

"I...wanted to know if you wanted to come over to my house for Christmas."

He heard Iceland start to say something but stop. The little Nordic was quiet for a moment before saying, "Sorry, Lithuania, I'm going to Sweden's for Christmas. The other Nordics and I are planning something special for Sealand this year, and we already decided that we're going to be at Sweden's house to present it."

Lithuania suddenly hated himself for calling. _Of course_ Iceland would be at another Nordic's house for Christmas. He _always_ went somewhere in Northern Europe for that holiday. Finland was Santa after all! And Sealand was Finland and Sweden's son, so _of course_ the Nordics would be gathering there. Even if none of that was true though, Iceland would obviously still have plans. Norway was his older brother after all, and Norway and Denmark were together, so they'd be spending some time together. And even if they weren't plotting something for Sealand, Denmark would still insist on seeing Sweden and, therefore, Finland and Sealand.

He hated himself for even thinking to call at all. He should have known better. Lithuania kept mentally shouting this at himself, suddenly mortified that he was having this conversation with Iceland.

Wait, what conversation? Lithuania hadn't replied!

"AWKWARD SILENCE!" the Baltic suddenly shouted, laughing nervously. The unexpected verbal explosion startled the Nordic on the other end, who accidentally let out a few swears in Icelandic through his surprise. Iceland then grasped the phone and tried to breathe evenly.

"Please don't startle me like that," he nearly begged. "It could set off one of the volcanoes. When Eyjafjallajökull erupted, I was on edge for _weeks_."

Lithuania felt a horrible sense of shame grow in his chest. "I'm sorry...Wait, what was that thing you said?"

"The what?"

"The volcano."

"Eyjafjallajökull."

"Is that-?"

"YES, that is how you pronounce the name of that volcano!"

Lithuania gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry..."

He heard Iceland let out an irritated groan, picturing the Nordic rubbing his temple with his free hand. He suddenly felt like crawling under a rock and dying, especially when Iceland began to speak again. "Look, I have plans for Christmas, okay, Lithuania? I'm very sorry that I can't come see you, as it's been way too long since we've spent any time together. However, my brother and the other Nordics called me first, so I have to see them. That's it."

Lithuania could hear the annoyance in his voice, and the Baltic's head dropped. "I understand," he replied glumly. "I'm sorry to bother you, Iceland. I'll leave you alone. Gle...Gled...?"

"_Gledileg Jol_?" Iceland sighed. "I appreciate the effort, Lithuania, but you could just say 'Merry Christmas'."

"...I'm sorry. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. Good-bye."

Lithuania heard Iceland hang up the phone on the other end and brought his cell phone away from his ear to see that the call had ended. The little screen flashed a few times before innocently returning to the main menu, as if nothing was wrong.

But Lithuania knew better. He had insulted Iceland, and nothing could change it. In less than two minutes, he had managed to startle the poor boy (which could lead to a volcanic eruption, Lithuania noted with great shame), reminded him of that other volcano eruption (He wasn't even going to bother trying to pronounce it.), questioned his holiday plans, and mispronounced a basic phrase in his language. That had to be a record somewhere.

"Nice, Lithuania," the Baltic said to himself, leaning over and banging his head against the carpeted floor. "That was so cool. You and Iceland are best friends forever, totally." He smacked his head against the carpet a few more times before finally resting it there. Sighing, he let the rest of his body flop to the floor and squeezed his eyes shut. "You suck at this relationship thing, Lithuania," he continued to himself. "No wonder every single one you've had has ended in disaster. ...Good God, I sound like a woman from one of America's _Real Housewives_ reality shows." He lifted his head up so his chin supported the weight against the carpet. "Now what? Estonia and Latvia are both busy on Christmas Day and have their own preparations to make for their countries. This is so pathetic."

It suddenly set in on just how pathetic it all was. Here Lithuania was, all alone in his house in Vilnius, with no one with which to spend the holidays. Hell, he didn't even have a _plan_ for the holidays! He had figured that his plans would be based on who was available, and he had been rejected for every suggestion!

Not surprisingly, he had called Estonia and Latvia first, seeing as they were his closest neighbors and best friends. But the two of them had their own independent plans with their countries, with their _leaders_! When Lithuania tried contacting his leaders, both his president and prime minister, he discovered that the two of them were busy themselves and couldn't really spend much time thinking about the holiday. After all, Lithuania had been hit especially hard by the global recession. His status wasn't as horrible as Greece's, but it was still really bad, so his government had vowed to do whatever it took to get the country back on track. In the back of his mind, he prayed that he would still be able to participate in the Eurovision Song Contest in the coming year.

All the financial issues were why he had to politely decline America's invitation to his annual Christmas party. It wasn't that Lithuania didn't want to go. On the contrary, despite the thought of eating a cake that appeared to be radioactive, he would have loved to go. He and America were good friends, but he felt horrible about spending the money to go to Washington D.C. just for a Christmas party. If he could go to discuss economic ideas with America (because everyone knew that America's economy wasn't all that awesome either), he would go, but, knowing America, that would never happen. So that was a no.

He had called Belarus.

And had hung up when he had heard a strange, almost paranormal sound along with the unmistakable, ominous squishing of a knife cutting red meat on the other end.

Ukraine hadn't answered her phone, probably too scared that it was someone trying to collect her debt.

And Russia...yeah, Lithuania hadn't called him. He wasn't _that_ desperate.

So what did that leave him with? "I am spending Christmas alone this year," he announced to his home, sitting up and ignoring the little bits of lint sticking to his forehead and chin. He sighed heavily and started to stand when he heard a knock on his door. Sighing again, this time rather lightly, he headed towards the front of his house and opened the door. He gasped.

"...Poland."

"Like, hey, Liet," the blond laughed, his breath visible in the cold, nighttime air. His cheeks were round and pink, glowing like a Christmas light. When he spoke again, his eyes lit shone with the same brilliance. "Can I come in? I'm totes freezing my ass off out here."

"Oh!" Lithuania gasped, suddenly realizing just how cold it was outside. "Yes, of course! Come in. Let me take your coat." He moved out of the way and welcomed Poland into the warmth of his home. Nodding appreciatively, Poland removed his heavy coat and handed it to the Baltic, who hung it up in his closet. He noted that he kept his pink scarf on with a smile.

Poland looked back to Lithuania and giggled. "What were you doing before I showed up?" he asked, smirking lightly.

This left the brunet confused. "Uh...nothing in particular. Why?"

Poland giggled again. "You, like, have carpet lint all over your face."

Lithuania's cheeks lit up bright red, and he violently rubbed his forehead and chin to rid them of the dust. Poland couldn't help but smile at the actions. "Your face is so totally funny right now," he kept giggling. "Please don't tell me you were making out with the carpet, Liet."

"I was not!" the Baltic protested, his cheeks still bright red. He rubbed his hands over his face one more time and said, "I had a rough day."

Poland stopped giggling and placed his hands on his hips, frowning. "Well, that's totes not good," he commented, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "How about we both have something hot to drink, and you can tell me all about it?"

Lithuania looked up in surprise, the red fading from his cheeks a bit. "Really? You'll listen?" he asked in slight disbelief. Poland had never really been known for listening to people all that well. This was a first.

"Um, alright," the brunet agreed. "What can I make you? Tea? Hot chocolate?"

"Do you have coffee?" Poland asked as he moved towards the lit fireplace. "I didn't sleep all that well last night."

"Just instant."

"It'll totally do."

Lithuania nodded and headed into his kitchen to prepare the hot drink. He made two cups quickly and called, "Do you want milk or cream?"

"Milk!" Poland called back, rubbing his hands together, warming them up. "Thanks, Liet!"

Lithuania flinched as he heard the nickname. Poland hadn't called him that since their last conversation under communist rule. Oh man, _that_ had been one hell of a phone call. Lithuania _still_ awoke from a disturbed sleep in the middle of the night, thinking about everything that had happened to him since his first relationship with Poland had ended horribly. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if his history and life would be different if he and Poland hadn't broken up their union. Maybe they would have defeated Sweden? Maybe they would have been able to prevent the partition of Poland (one of them at the very least)? Maybe they would have been able to fight off Germany and Prussia and save some of their populations from the Nazis? Maybe so many of their people wouldn't have boarded those ships to America? Maybe Lithuania wouldn't have had to go with Russia and be under Soviet Union control? Maybe they could have avoided communist rule altogether? Maybe their economies would not be, for lack of a better term, in the toilet? These thoughts buzzed about in Lithuania's mind until a sneeze from Poland brought him back to reality.

"Ugh, I think I might be totes getting a cold," the blond sighed, sitting in front of the fire. Lithuania brought the two mugs of coffee into his living room, passing one of them to Poland. "Thanks, Liet," he said just as he brought the hot liquid to his lips. "This is just what I needed."

"Poland?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really sorry."

Poland looked up from his coffee, not amused. "Stop talking about all that shit that happened between us, would you?" he nearly begged. "At least during this season."

Lithuania shook his head. "But I can't help but think that-!"

"Then stop thinking!" the blond insisted. "You don't have to constantly think, Liet, really. I will totally not think any less of you if let things go once in a while."

Let things go. It was a new concept to Lithuania, who had a hard time forgetting even the tiniest of slip-ups. It was part of his personality, but that also came from many years living under Russia. If things weren't perfect for him, things weren't good for _anyone_. Therefore, Lithuania always felt a need to make things as perfect as possible for all people. The idea of letting something go was not in him.

Poland suddenly smiled. "I totally know what you're thinking," he said, breaking the silence. "And you're wrong. I don't think anything would have changed for either of us if we had stayed together in our union. Looking back on it, you totally had balls to challenge me, and it was probably for the better."

"But, Poland..."

"Liet," the blond continued, cutting him off, "let's just be friends now."

Lithuania had no idea of where this rational side of Poland was coming from. They had known each other for hundreds of years, and yet Lithuania had never once seen the blond so put-together, so logical about anything. It was a welcomed sight, and Lithuania figured that there was no better time for it to show.

He nodded. "Yes, I think that will work." He sat down next to his friend in front of the fireplace and sipped his coffee.

"We both, like, totally suck at relationships, but we should at least be able to suck at them together."

"Heh...I like that."

"Want to spend Christmas with me?"

Lithuania jerked his head towards the blond and was about to say something when he heard his cell phone make a buzzing noise. He picked it up from the floor and opened it, only to see a text message from Iceland.

_"Srry i was so mean. bad day 2day. :( i'll come c u sumtime after x-mas. -ice"_

Lithuania smiled and closed his cell. "Yes."

"Hmm?" Poland sipped more of his coffee. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," the Baltic replied, still smiling. "Nothing at all."

"So...do you wanna spend Christmas with me or not?"

Lithuania looked over at his friend and grinned. "You came all the way here just to ask that, didn't you?"

Poland blushed a light shade of pink that looked red from the glow of the fire. He looked down at his coffee and wrinkled his nose. "Maybe."

Lithuania's smile softened. "Sure. I'll come spend Christmas with you."

"Nu-uh," the blond said back, sipping his coffee again. "Your place. You totally need to save money."

"That's coming from you?"

"You need to save money so you can buy me a fabulous present."

There was the usual Poland. Lithuania smiled widely again and gazed into the fire before them, sipping his coffee. They sat in a comfortable silence, letting the heat from the fire warm them and keep their coffee hot. At one point, Poland rested his head against Lithuania's shoulder and murmured, "I didn't sleep well last night because I was busy traveling here."

Lithuania laughed. "I knew it."

Poland smirked. "Monster."

"You are."

"Like, we both are."

Strange agreement.

But it worked for them.

END


	3. 3rd CT: Speechless

**Author's Note: **I shall now remind you all that I'm a review whore. 8)

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**The Christmas Tree Left Me Speechless**

_Never once in his life had Prussia not wished for a White Christmas. He had never planned on changing that, but now, more than ever, he wished that it would stop snowing._

_No matter how hard he looked or how far his gaze went, he couldn't see anything beyond the never-ending, blinding blizzard. All around him, harsh winds blew, and massive clumps of snow splattered to the earth ungracefully. If he was lucky, he could catch a glimpse at the sky, but it hardly mattered because it was just as dark and clouded as the rest of the world was._

_The rest of his world at least._

_"You'll get used to the snow," came Russia's voice behind him. Prussia flinched as a large, gloved hand rested on his shoulder. He could feel the other slowly creep up and whisper in his ear, "At least...you better. I have lots of work for you to do."_

_Prussia swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to focus on staring out the window before him. "And if I refuse?"_

_He heard a soft, knowing giggle, making his hair stand on end. "You don't want to know, da," Russia murmured, licking the shell of the albino's ear. A shiver shot up Prussia's spine. "I would suggest that you get to work though. This mansion, this nation...will not run itself, da?"_

_Prussia blinked and turned around, red eyes wide as he stared at the large man. "Tonight is Christmas Eve," he said, trying to keep his composure. Mentally, he was shaking. He prayed to God that what he was thinking was not true. He prayed that Russia's next words would never leave his vodka-stained mouth._

_But it was futile._

_"We don't celebrate that here, Little Prussia."_

_Prussia's mouth hung open in a small "o." After a moment of staring at his master like such, he closed his mouth and reflexively swallowed, still trying to keep himself under control. He didn't want to believe Russia's words. He wanted to celebrate Christmas. He didn't need much. Just a little gift exchange, a prayer at a nearby church, and a bit of good cheer. He didn't even need a Christmas Tree, even if it was a Germanic tradition. To him, that wasn't a lot to ask._

_But whether or not it was too much to ask was not the problem here. "Christmas does not exist in my union," Russia explained, cheerfully smiling. "Do you know why?"_

_Prussia shook his head, not wanting to know._

_Russia smirked and opened his dark eyes, staring down at his property. "Nothing is above the state," he said, his voice coated with hurtful intent, "not even God. We have no religion here. The people only believe in me." He leaned forward and grasped the sides of Prussia's face, bringing him close so their foreheads were touching. His hot breath invaded the albino's mouth, the smell of vodka filling it. With their lips so close, he whispered, "In my Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, if you pray to God, you are praying to me. I am God."_

_Prussia jerked away and quickly backed up towards the window, the force of his back banging up against it so strong it almost cracked. He stared into Russia's eyes, seeing all the evil and all the hate within them. They swirled around ominously, the deep violent darkening to black. He made no move to grab Prussia again. Instead, he just smiled and hid his hands behind his back._

_How could he say such a statement so easily? Prussia wondered. Nothing, no human, no animal, and no nation, was above God. That Prussia knew for a fact. "You are not God," he hissed, narrowing his eyes. "If you think you are, you're a fool. God is beyond us, even us as nations. No matter how large or how mighty an empire may be, it is never greater than God." Prussia said these words stubbornly and full of confidence, but what he really wanted was not to convince Russia. He was trying to remind of himself of what he thought he knew._

_He was surprised when Russia didn't react right away. The large nation just continued smiling and said, "You'll see it my way soon enough, da. Everyone does. I'll have you praying to me in no time." He giggled a bit, loving the horrified expression on Prussia's face. "In the meantime," he continued, "you will not celebrate Christmas. No one will. You and my other toys are to work for the rest of tonight, all of tomorrow, and all the time for the rest of your time with me. And by that, I mean the rest of your lives as nations." His smile thinned into a mischievous line across his face, and he stepped forward so that he was standing right in front of Prussia. Trapped between the cold window and Russia, the albino couldn't move. The communist leaned down and touched his forehead to Prussia's once again, his now black eyes staring into Prussia's stunned red ones._

_Prussia gulped audibly. "What are you-?"_

_"Or whenever you die."_

_The albino shook his head in surprise. "What?"_

_Russia's arms fell forward, and his palms leaned up against the glass of the windows, completing trapping Prussia. He smirked again and said, "You will work for me either for the rest of your life as a nation...or whenever you die, Gilbert, whenever you as a person fade away." A giggle. "Isn't that right, my little dissolved nobody?"_

_Prussia slapped Russia's hands away and grabbed him by the scarf. "I'm not going to die!" he shouted. "I don't give a damn if my own nation has been dissolved. I'm East Germany now! I have a new territory that belongs only to me!"_

_"Kol kol kol..."_

_It was only then that Prussia realized what he had done. He nearly threw Russia's scarf out of his hands as if the fabric had burned him and stared up at Russia again, waiting for the large man to react. He leaned up against the window, looking for a way out and simultaneously wishing the window would disappear so he could run away. But where would he run to? And how far? Guards were stationed around the mansion and around the borders of the Soviet Union. And if he did somehow get past the guards of the Soviet Union, he'd still run right into other communist countries, which would likely send him back._

_Slowly, Prussia came to a realization, one he probably should have made when he had first come under Russia's rule earlier that year. He refused to let the tears building up in his eyes fall, especially in front of Russia. He was too proud for that, but he was not beyond admitting the truth._

_He was trapped._

_Prussia squeezed his eyes tightly shut, praying to whomever that this was just a dream._

_Russia reached for his water pipe._

_"STOP!"_

_Prussia's eyes snapped open, and he looked up beyond Russia to see Ukraine. She held her hands together up to her chest and looked at her brother with pleading eyes. If Russia was disturbed, he didn't show it._

_"Yes, Sister?" he said, his voice showing no sign of malice._

_Ukraine cleared her throat. "Please do not hurt him, Brother," she requested quietly. "With all due respect, Prussia did not directly challenge you. And I believe that we can pardon him for his beliefs, at least for now. Like he said, he is part of Germany now. The German people take Christmas very seriously."_

_Russia raised an eyebrow. "You are suggesting I should let him keep his religious beliefs, da?"_

_Ukraine shook her head. "Not at all. I am merely suggesting that we give him time to see things our way. He'll eventually get it, but this is his first full winter with us. He needs time to get used to things." She held her breath, wanting to believe her brother would agree._

_And he did. "Fine, da. I will not punish him...this time." He put his water pipe away and headed for the door to the hallway. "But you will all still work tonight, tomorrow, and for the rest of your days here. And I will not permit anyone to celebrate Christmas." He grabbed the doorknob, flung the door open, walked into the hallway, and slammed the door shut. The harsh sound echoed in the room, sending an especially cold chill down Prussia's and Ukraine's spines._

_Prussia looked at the girl, eyes wide. "You saved me."_

_Ukraine looked back at him and shook her head. "You're not safe. None of us are."_

_Another chill._

_The blonde looked back to the door and sighed. "I'm going to put my coat on and go work. You should join me soon if you don't want to see the water pipe again."_

_"...Ukraine?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"I can't wait for the summer to return."_

_"...Neither can I."_

_

* * *

_

_That night, Prussia couldn't sleep. He often had a hard time sleeping now that he was living under Russia's rule. The fear of the unknown kept him awake at night, and if he did fall asleep, he had horrifying dreams of frozen wastelands and bears guzzling vodka. Whenever he awoke for whatever reason, his bedroom was often freezing beyond belief. That night was especially cold with harsh winds blowing against his bedroom window. Even though the curtains were raised, there was no light coming from the full moon. The room was completely dark._

_Dark and cold._

_"West..." Prussia whispered. He curled into a ball and hoisted the thin sheets up to his nose, futilely wishing they could warm him up. Staring at the wall he couldn't see, he let his eyes water. "Merry Christmas."_

_There was a knock on his door._

_Sitting straight up in bed, Prussia gasped. He tried to make out the the door, but that was impossible with the lack of light. He didn't want to answer it though. He knew it was Russia, coming back to punish him for earlier._

_But he also knew he would be punished even worse if he didn't answer it. Reluctantly, he got out of bed and walked to the door, his feet already so frozen he didn't care about the cold wood beneath him. He reached out and turned the knob, allowing a small amount of light to enter._

_What he saw shocked him._

_"Ukraine?"_

_"It's past midnight," the woman said quietly. She looked up at him and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Prussia." She held out her hands and presented the man with a tiny pot. Inside that pot was a tiny, nearly frozen stick with a single, almost dead leaf hanging at its side. Atop the little stick was a ribbon tied into a bow around paper folded into a star. In the hard, dry dirt surrounding the stick were three lit matches. Prussia held his hands up to the pot and felt something he had not felt since the summer._

_Warmth._

_Hope._

_"It's beautiful," he whispered, taking the little pot. "Thank you."_

_"I don't care if we shouldn't have our own religious beliefs," Ukraine said. "You should at least have a Christmas tree._

_"Thank you..."_

_"And this." Ukraine picked a cylinder wrapped in newspaper off the floor and handed it to Prussia. "Merry Christmas. I hope you like it." She smiled and silently ran down the hallway to her own room before anyone could discover her._

_Prussia took the two gifts back into his room and shut the door. He placed the glowing tree on his bedside table and sat down on the cold, hard mattress of his bed. Quietly, he ripped the newspaper off the cylinder and held the gift up to the light of the matches. He gasped in shock._

_A bottle of his favorite German beer._

_On the verge of tears, Prussia got down onto the floor and placed his elbows on his mattress. He clasped his hands together and looked up. He took a long, deep breath before speaking._

_"God, if You can hear me, I pray You'll bless those I love. Please bless West, Italy, Gilbird, and everyone else waiting for me back at home, even Austria and Hungary. Bless them with happiness and a Merry Christmas."_

_A pause and a gasp._

_"But..most of all, please bless Ukraine, I pray. Amen."_

_The lights from the matches lasted throughout the entire night._

_

* * *

_

Prussia awoke with a start, gasping as light flooded his eyes. He sat up in bed, noticing the warm, white sheets wrapped around his pajama-clad body and the sunlight streaming into his bedroom. Next to him, Gilbird opened his little eyes and chirped, welcoming the new day. Prussia looked down at the chick and blinked, trying to focus his eyes.

Then came a knock at his door. "Brother, wake up," came Germany's voice. "It's Christmas Morning. There are presents wrapped in chick wrapping paper waiting for you under the tree."

Prussia hopped out of bed and opened his door quickly. His younger brother smiled a bit and said, "Good morning, Brother, Merry Christmas."

"West," Prussia gasped, "Merry Christmas."

Germany tilted his head. "What's wrong? Didn't sleep well?"

"West, what year is it?"

Germany raised an eyebrow. "It's 1990. This is our first Christmas together as a unified country."

"Oh," the albino murmured, "it's 1990..."

"Brother, are you okay?"

"I had...a weird dream."

"Oh." Germany glanced down at the floor and then back up to his older brother. "Well, I can make you breakfast, and then we can start opening presents to get your mind off whatever dream you had. Sound good?"

Slowly, Prussia nodded. "Yeah...West?"

"Hmm?"

"Do we have any fake flowers?"

Germany was a little confused as to why his brother would be asking for such a thing, but then he remembered that it was Prussia. Shrugging that thought off, he scratched the side of his head in concentration. "Um, yeah, I think there might be a few in the basement, but they're not Christmas flowers."

"Okay, that's fine," Prussia confirmed, nodding a little. "I'll get them later. Thanks, West." He looked up at his brother and grinned. "Right now, I want breakfast! Make me the best wurst you got. And I want a big mug of beer! And you better have gotten me something awesome!"

Gilbird chirped in agreement.

* * *

Later that morning, after all the presents had been opened and all the wrapping paper had been cleaned up, Prussia headed down into the basement and switched the light on. He rolled his eyes at his little brother's neatness, even in the basement of all places. Sighing, he walked to a pile of boxes that said "Craft Supplies" in big, black letters.

"Since when did West have arts and crafts time?" Prussia snickered, opening the box. He smiled at the contents, as there were a few fake flowers scattered among miscellaneous other things. He took the prettiest one from the bunch and closed the box. Satisfied, he turned the light off and headed upstairs to his room, where his chick waited next to a small box.

"Ready for a long trip, Gilbird?" he asked, sitting down on the carpeted floor and setting the decoration in the box. He closed the box up and tied a string around it long enough that Gilbird could carry it without a problem.

The little chick chirped and took the long string into his beak. Prussia smiled. "You know I would go there myself, but the Soviet Union hasn't been dissolved yet. Even though West and I are united now, if I go back, there's no telling what might happen. But you can come and go as you please. Do it for me, okay? When you get back, I'll give you some special treats." He pat the little chick on its head and picked him up in his hands. He then got up and opened the window, letting the refreshingly cool air into his room. Gilbird nodded at him and flew off.

"I'll be able to go back someday," Prussia whispered. "Just wait. One day, I will return for you."

* * *

Ukraine sat in her little home in Kiev, tired from the long day. She had declared herself independent a few months ago (and that nice boy...whatever his name was...had been nice enough to acknowledge her), but she still had ties to her brother and the Soviet Union. Going back and forth between the areas had taken a lot out of her.

"At least the trains were on time," she sighed happily as she hung her winter coat up in the closet. "At least there was that."

She was just about to go to her kitchen to brew some tea when she heard a pecking at her front window. She looked up and gasped. "Oh, you poor thing!" she cried, running to the window and opening it for the little bird. "Oh, you must be freezing! Come in, come in, I'll get you warmed up."

But the little bird didn't seem too interested in coming inside. It just set the box down on the window sill, chirped at Ukraine, and flew off. For a moment, the woman contemplated what had just happened but left that thought alone when she saw the box. She took it from the window sill and closed the window, shivering a bit at the cold air. Right there, she opened the box and happily gasped in surprise at the little flower. Even though it was fake, she still found it pretty. She took it out to admire it when she spotted a note at the bottom of the box. She set the flower down and took the note out to read.

_I'll love you until this flower dies._

_I promise I'll come back for you._

_-Prussia_

Ukraine smiled and held the note to her heart.

"Soon, Prussia," she whispered. "We'll be together soon."

END

Time for some historical notes. During the time of the USSR's existence, religion was more or less outlawed for the people. Atheism became the country's official religion. In the entire USSR population, only about 20% of the people admitted to having religious beliefs. The grand majority of churches were closed, and some of the ones that remained open became atheist museums. As far as the policy in East Germany goes, Russia, for the most part, tried to discourage the people from practicing any religion in any way. Lots of East Germans, therefore, would secretly meet in small church basements to worship. However, in general, the religion laws were more lax in East Germany than they were in the rest of the USSR.

Ukraine attempted to declare independence on July 16, 1990, with the Declaration of State Sovereignty of Ukraine. It stated that Ukraine was independent in the cases of democracy, politics, and economics. It also stated that it had priority over Russia's declaration that it had power over all territories involved with the USSR. This didn't go over so well, and Ukraine tried again with a new declaration in August of 1991. None of that really took effect until the USSR was dissolved in December of 1991. Canada was the first country to recognize Ukraine as independent. More on this in a later track!

And again, you guys probably already know this, but East and West Germany were officially unified on October 3, 1990.


	4. 4th CT: Dance in the Dark

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**Let's Dance Around the Christmas Tree in the Dark**

"...I don't believe this shit."

Hungary glared at the television screen across from her. She sank deep into the couch's plush cushions and angrily held the remote in her right hand, looking like she could jump up and murder someone with it at any given moment. Her narrow, green eyes watched the flashing television screen, memorizing every detail and yet not wanting to. Even she couldn't believe that an infomercial, of all things, was what was upsetting her.

"This is just the perfect lingerie to wear for your man on Christmas Eve!" the saleswoman announced. "It's naughty but nice, sexy but sweet. He won't be able to keep his hands off you! You'll be his best present ever and please him to no end! It's a sure-fire way to make sure he stays yours for all-time!" She laughed loudly and smiled wide, showing off her abnormally white teeth. No human being could have real teeth that white and straight.

"And that's not all!" the other saleswoman on screen added. "If you call within the next five minutes, we'll include this special push-up bra! You know how men like breasts and all. Well, no matter how flat and flabby and old they are, this will perk them right up and make them appealing to men again. So if you don't have a man, wear this bra! As soon as he's yours, you can wear the lingerie for him!" She, too, laughed loudly and flashed an impossibly perfect smile.

The two saleswomen then turned to the model standing by the counter. "Let's look at this lovely lady for proof, shall we?" the first saleswoman asked, her voice way too happy. "Can we get a close-up please?"

Hungary tried to resist the temptation to smash her television with her frying pan, but her resolve was quickly fading. On the screen, the camera had zoomed in and was now focusing solely on the model's breasts. Aside from the obvious disgust Hungary had for the display, she couldn't help but notice something else.

"No woman has boobs that perfect," she muttered, clenching the remote in a death grip. "No bra can be that amazing."

The screen then changed to a before-and-after split-screen. Again, the camera was focused solely on the woman's breasts. In the "before" picture, they appeared rather normal. Hungary nodded. "Yes, that is what a real woman's breasts look like. Wait, are they saying that normal boobs aren't good enough?" She sat up straight and stared closely at the "after" picture. Her eyes widened in horror. "That 'before' picture was taken months ago!" she gasped. "She got a friggin' boob job!"

With that, Hungary launched the remote at the television, hitting the glass in the corner. Despite her strength, the screen did not crack. Realizing what she had done, Hungary groaned and got up to retrieve the remote. She turned the television off with an irritated sigh and turned to the clock hanging on the wall above the couch.

"It's getting late," she mumbled to herself, not really caring. It was a Saturday anyway.

That set off another thought. "The first Saturday of the month was the fourth," she said, walking into the kitchen. Hanging from her cellar door was her calendar, which had a black "x" on each date that had passed. The fourth also sported a black "x," but it also had a red circle drawn around it. Hungary smiled. That had been a productive evening indeed. Taiwan and Vietnam had offered to bring Malaysia and Indonesia to their next meeting!

Hungary lifted the calendar sheet, and her smile disappeared. "New Year's Day," she whispered, her eyes wide with dread. The first Saturday of January was indeed New Year's Day. "No one's going to be able to come," she continued, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. "Everyone will be out celebrating and partying with their families and friends. Either that or they'll be nursing hangovers." She let the calendar sheet fall and looked down at the floor. "Should I cancel...?"

Hungary then looked back at the television, and a bitter frown formed on her face. "No way, not after that. Dance in the Dark is on." She picked up the red marker from the cup sitting on the edge of her kitchen counter, lifted the calendar sheet, and drew a large circle around January 1st. "They'll come if they can. I won't cancel it just because I think no one will be able to come."

Sighing, Hungary then walked back into the living room and turned the television back on.

"You'll lose so much weight that your man won't be able to keep his hands off you!"

Then she turned it back off.

"I need a drink."

Hungary threw her winter coat on and stormed out of her house.

* * *

"Welcome, what can I get you?" the bartender asked, smiling.

Hungary smiled back. "A beer, thanks."

But her smile faded when the bartender frowned. "A beer for you? That isn't very ladylike."

Hungary stared at him, not believing her ears. Was he truly saying that women shouldn't drink beer? Oh, the girls in Germany would take that well. Hungary rolled her eyes. "Look, I want a beer. If you don't serve me a beer, I'll leave, and you'll lose a sale."

She had him at that. "Fine, be right there." The bartender turned and started to fill a glass.

Hungary groaned and smacked her head against the bar. This was too much. "First some saleswomen try to tell me I won't be beautiful if I don't buy their bra and get a boob job, and now this? What the hell. I thought the age of bias against women was over." She looked up and took her beer, placing a bit of money down onto the bar. The bartender took it without a word.

"Whatever," Hungary muttered, taking a large gulp of the alcohol. It had a mild, almost sweet taste to it, and it slid down her throat smoothly. It was quite welcome that evening.

But what she heard wasn't. "I want to lose ten pounds before Christmas," a woman at a booth behind her said to a friend. "I mean, my husband has been telling me that I need to lose weight for a long time now. Maybe it's time I listen to him..."

"Oh, no! You're so skinny!" her friend replied, shocked. "I'm the one who needs to lose weight. Look at how flabby my arms are! When my husband and I do it, he can barely look at them, let alone touch them. And my stomach just protrudes so much that it disgusts him...disgusts me."

"I'm not skinny," the first woman nearly sobbed. "My ass is the biggest thing I've ever seen. My husband hates it. He won't look at me from behind, because he says he can't see anything else in front of him. But if I get it down to a good, small size, he'll love me again! He'll want me again! It'll only be then that I'll know I'm worth anything to him. I mean, he works so hard during the day to support my kids and me. The least I can do for him is look pretty."

The friend looked up from her small drink, tears in her eyes. "Can you have sex with the lights on?"

"...No."

"Neither can I. I don't want my husband to see me, to see how gross I've become since having our son."

"At least your first child was a boy! I've got two girls. If I don't have a boy, the family name won't go on, and then all my husband's hard work will be for nothing."

Hungary couldn't take it anymore. "I can't believe you two!" she shouted, turning around on her stool. She glared at the two women and then looked down at their table. The two were drinking tiny cups of alcohol, the glasses about the size of shot glasses. They were sipping them and eating celery with no dressing or sauce. Shaking her head, Hungary looked back up to them. "Do you really think that you're only worth something if your husbands think you are?"

The two women exchanged looks of guilt and then looked back at the nation. "Well, we don't live for anything else," the first one explained. "Neither of us have a job. Our husbands just want us to stay at home and take care of the house and the kids, so we do. We'd be bad mothers if we didn't..."

That was the last straw. "Bullshit!" Hungary shouted loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear. It made the women jump up in their seats. "Do you know how many women throughout history have done epic shit while raising a family? You can do both, you know! Hell, the two of you saying you can't is an insult to those women!"

"Like who?" the second woman asked, clearly not buying the story.

Hungary crossed her arms. "How about Maria Theresa, the woman who saved all our asses during the War of the Austrian Succession? She married, had sixteen kids, and still managed to rule Austria, Hungary, and plenty of other nations. Some of her kids became great rulers! Now would you say that she was a bad mother?"

"...She gave birth to Marie Antoinette."

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"

The first woman looked back at her friend. "She's right. That's not the point. Marie Antoinette might have been a bitch, but she still did a lot while raising her kids. And Maria Theresa did so many good things as a ruler while raising a family."

Hungary smiled. "Women are worth so much more than just how much they appeal to men. So stop talking down about yourselves. You're both beautiful and worthy of love. And if your husbands don't think you are unless you change, then they're the ones who aren't worthy. You said that you have two girls, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you want them to grow up thinking they need to live their entire lives only to please men?"

"No..."

"And you have a son, right? Do you want him to think that women have no worth?"

"No, I don't."

Hungary grinned. "Then you should show them that. I would suggest a sit-down with your husbands."

The two women smiled back. "Yes, I think that's in order," the first one said, standing. "Thank you. I needed that."

"Yes, thank you," the second woman added. They placed their money onto the table and walked out of the bar, waving to Hungary as they left. Hungary smiled and waved back.

Suddenly, the bartender snorted. "They weren't that beautiful," he scoffed, smirking. "That first one...her ass really was huge. She probably sits on the couch all day, not caring for her kids at all. Her girls are going to be ugly as anything one day."

_Splash!_

Hungary slammed the empty glass down on the bar in a rage. It shattered into a million pieces, leaving a now-wet bartender speechless. Beer dripped down his skin, down his clothes, and down to the floor, forming a puddle around him. Hungary glared at him, her green eye venomous.

"Shut the hell up."

And she got up and left.

* * *

Quite the sight greeted Hungary when she arrived back at her house. "Austria?" she called, surprised at the aristocrat knocking on her front door.

The man turned. "Oh, there you are, Hungary. I was just about to leave."

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to come see you."

Now this was new. It was usually Hungary who went to Austria's house. While the event was rare, it was rather welcomed. Hungary managed a smile for the man and opened her front door. "Come in and warm up. I'll get you some cookies and coffee."

"Thank you," Austria replied, following the woman inside. He shut the door behind him and hung his winter coat up in the closet. He watched Hungary walk into her kitchen, and his smile disappeared. Almost sadly, he made his way to the couch and sat down.

Hungary reemerged a few minutes later with a tray of cookies and two cups of coffee. "Enjoy," she said as she sat the tray down. She was shocked when Austria didn't reach for the cookies right away. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I could ask the same thing about you," Austria replied, looking genuinely concerned. "At the last World Meeting, you seemed so upset and angry with a lot of us. Did someone do something to upset you?"

Hungary shrugged. "I haven't panned Prussia in a long time."

Austria raised an eyebrow. "Spare me the excuses please. He may be rather annoying, but he's calmed down these days. He has to work with Germany now, so he can't run wild on his own anymore. Plus, Ukraine is a good influence on him. If anything good came out of the Cold War, it was the two of them meeting. Now tell me what's really going on."

Hungary shrugged again. "I...I'm kinda...pissed off."

"About?"

"...A lot of things."

Austria nodded. "Yes, I get that. Can you be more specific?"

"I hate the way the world views women!"

Austria blinked.

"I mean, people keep talking about how much progress women have made in today's world, and yet society still treats them like they're only worth something if they're perfect according to men's standards! It pisses me off!"

Now that had not been what Austria was expecting. He was originally thinking that something else was bothering his ex-wife, but this made a lot of sense. As soon as she had realized that she was indeed a girl, Hungary had fiercely believed in women's rights and the equal treatment of women. The fact that sexism was still so alive despite the changing times would piss her off.

"I saw a really awful commercial today," the brunette continued, her voice a bit softer. "It was trying to sell this tacky lingerie and push-up bra, claiming that a man would love a woman more if she wore them for him. It just made me so mad. And then there was this really sexist bartender...And that's just today. And the model in the commercial had had a boob job! Her rack wasn't even real! I freakin' hate that. Silicone and saline are nothing but POISON!"

Austria finally picked up his coffee and took a sip. "I can see how that would anger you," he agreed. "None of that is okay."

"Why do I need to see all this stuff so close to Christmas?" Hungary asked, not really asking Austria. "This is supposed to be a season of happiness and joy, and I'm so angry at the world..."

"For what it's worth," Austria said, ignoring the question, "I've always thought you were beautiful and perfect just the way you are. I still do."

Hungary's cheeks lit up bright pink. "Austria..."

"There's always going to be injustice in the world," the aristocrat continued. "But that's why we have strong women like you. You are one of the many looking to change that. For that, I admire you. You remind me a lot of Maria Theresa. She was a powerful woman who took on a lot and yet always came out strong, even in defeat. That's you, Hungary. I've never met other women quite like the two of you."

Something suddenly clicked in Hungary's mind. Even when she was working as a maid in Austria's house, she was still respected. Austria didn't treat her like she wasn't worth anything to him. He never had. He didn't do that in the current day either. He had always been about class and respect towards everyone. Hungary couldn't remember a time when he believed he was superior to any woman. Even when he had believed that Italy was a girl, he hadn't conquered him because he thought he was a girl. He was just a strong country taking control of weakness. Sex and gender had nothing to do with it.

Hungary smiled. "You're a bit of a feminist, aren't you?"

Now it was Austria's turn to blush. "...I guess you could say that."

Hungary giggled. "I knew it."

"I also wanted to asked you if you wanted to spend Christmas with me at my place," the aristocrat said, changing the subject.

Hungary rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Yes, I'd love to." She then smirked and scooted over so she was close to Austria, their legs touching. His face became pinker as he felt her breath on his ear. "And the two of us can _dance_ in the _dark_..."

Austria choked on his coffee.

"Or...you know what? I'd rather we do it with the lights on."

"...Please don't say such vulgar things."

Hungary frowned. "Ah, screw it. The coffee's getting cold anyway. Let's just do it now."

"HUNGARY!"

END

More historical notes! Maria Theresa was the first female ruler of the Hapsburg dominions and the last of the House of Hapsburg. Her reign lasted forty years, beginning in October of 1740, after Emperor Charles VI, her father, died. She was expected to give up her power to Francis Stephen of Lorraine, her husband, but she remained the absolute ruler. She had sixteen children, many of which (such as Marie Antoinette) went on to rule other countries. An interesting side note to point out is that she and Frederick II (Old Fritz) absolutely hated each other with a passion. Hetalia makes these kinds of things so amusing. XD

And I freakin' hate how the media treats women. Seriously, next time you're watching TV, pay attention to the commercials. Women are almost always either housewives or sex objects. It pisses me off. We need more badass girls like Hungary and Maria Theresa in this world to change that.


	5. 5th CT: Telephone

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**Stop Telephoning Me About the Christmas Tree**

As soon as Japan stepped into his small Tokyo home, he began to regret going out in the first place. He was not cold; Tokyo was never especially cold. He was not covered in snow; Tokyo rarely received any snow, and if it did, the snow would most likely fall in February. It wasn't even really that dark outside, as the bright lights from the skyscrapers and neon signs created so much light that the sun wasn't really necessary. Japan hadn't been harassed on the subway or been mobbed by _otaku_ in Akihabara. Looking at things this way, there was really no reason for Japan to regret going out.

But there was a reason from a seasonal standpoint. As Japan hung his winter coat up in his closet, images of the busy streets began to flash through his mind.

_"Over 70% off!"_

_"Our prices can't be beat!"_

_"Christmas Sale!"_

_"Buy now!"_

Consumerism had completely consumed his country. Granted, very few people in Japan were Christians or even believed in a singular God at all, but the consumerism was suffocating. Everywhere Japan went, signs, labels, businessmen, and money gathered around him, making him feel rather claustrophobic. Tokyo had a reputation for being an extremely busy, extremely crowded city, and Japan didn't have a problem with that, especially when he remembered that smaller cities and tiny villages were just a short train ride away. However, this kind of claustrophobia just plain irritated him.

"Woof!"

Japan looked down and managed a tiny small for his dog. "Hello, Pochi-kun, I'm back," he said, kneeling down to pet the little animal's head. "Did you miss me? Don't worry, I'm not going out again tonight." He then stood back up straight and headed for his bedroom.

He reemerged in his living room a few minutes later wearing one of his traditional kimono instead of the Western-style clothes he had worn out. Pochi barked again, this time just wanting attention, and sat next to the _kotatsu_. Japan, getting the message, walked to the heated table, sat down with his legs underneath it, and turned the heater on. Pochi yipped happily and snuggled himself underneath as well.

They stayed like that for a few silent minutes until Japan spoke up. "Why is it all about money?" he asked quietly, more to himself than Pochi. The little dog looked up at him for a moment and then closed his eyes again, content to settle down for a nap.

Japan continued to talk anyway. "I can understand Christmas's gift-giving, but I do not understand why it has to be all about money. I am not a Christian, but I think that the early gifts given were not bought at a department store sale." He sighed heavily and set his chin down on the table. "I guess times have changed."

Moments like these made Japan truly wish for his old life, before the West had forced his country open to the world. But if things had stayed the way they were during that time, the Edo Period, then Japan would not be Japan. He would not have modernized so quickly and become a powerful force in world politics and economics. Shrugging, Japan figured that, despite all the controversy surrounding his forced opening and its aftereffects, he still owed America a "thank you" in some way. After World War II, America had been the one who had helped him rebuild. In a way, he figured that that was the ultimate form of forgiveness for all the destruction and death. Now the two were allies, and life was, despite the general problems going on in the world, okay.

But America's bringing of Christmas still bothered him. "It's supposed to be a time of charity and good cheer and joy," he murmured, "but I feel like it's all about consumerism and who gets what."

This depressed feeling was part of the reason why Japan was home, not at America's Christmas party, that evening. It was Christmas Eve, December 24th, but Japan was not in the mood to celebrate. He was not in the mood to do anything but sulk. And he was certainly not in the mood to eat America's bright purple, covered-in-sparkles, six-feet-tall cake. No, he most certainly was not.

Sighing, Japan straightened himself up and reached across the _kotatsu_ for his laptop. He opened it and turned it on, the screen lighting up. After a moment of loading, the screen changed to the main menu. Absentmindedly, Japan clicked some of the icons to open his games until an icon began to blink in the corner of the screen. Someone wanted his attention.

When Japan clicked the icon, a new screen came up, his webcam screen. "Hi, Japan."

"...Hello, Greece-san."

"What time is it in Tokyo?"

"Eight at night. So that makes it one in the afternoon in Athens?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

This was awkward. Japan hadn't spoken to Greece in over two months, not since their last quest to see Dir En Grey perform. That night had, well, not gone as planned in more ways than one. And, since then, Greece had not once come to Japan looking for a concert. Japan kept trying to tell himself that Greece was just trying to save money, but he knew something else was wrong.

He also knew that it was his problem.

"Do you hate me, Japan?"

The Asian stared into his webcam and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. He tried but his throat constricted every time.

"Because if you hate me for what I did, I'm sorry, and I'll leave you alone."

"No, Greece-san!" Japan finally managed to shout. "No, please, I'm not angry! I don't want you to stop seeing me!"

Greece shrugged, frowning sadly. "I didn't mean to go all the way with you. Once I got started, I just couldn't stop. I like you a lot, Japan."

Japan blushed bright red. "Don't apologize, Greece-san, it wasn't your fault. It was stupid of me to think up that plan, but I knew you wanted Turkey-san out of that club as soon as possible."

"No, it's my fault," the Mediterranean country said back, his voice firm but gentle. "That idiot wouldn't have been able to tell we were there, what with our outfits and all. I was just being paranoid. If I wasn't so obsessed with hating Turkey, we could have had a good time without any awkward sex."

Japan felt positively mortified. Sexual acts were never an easy topic of conversation, especially for one so reserved and shy as Japan. Regardless, he took a breath and spoke again. "I don't hate you for what you did, Greece-san. It's just...I am not so comfortable...with those kinds of things. And we _recorded it!_ We were supposed to just do a little foreplay and make Turkey-san _think_ we were...doing it...in order to make him run out of the club and leave us alone! I didn't think it would turned into...what it did." He stopped and took a breath, his cheeks on fire. Once he composed himself, he started to speak again. "But I want to make it very clear that I don't hate you. I just..."

"You just don't know how to handle it," Greece finished, received a nod from his friend. "I understand. My customs are very different from yours. In my country, sex isn't such a big deal. That's why my country is ranked first in frequency..."

"And mine is dead-last," Japan added.

Greece nodded. "I should have been more respectful of those customs. I'm so sorry."

Japan felt like crying. During that ordeal a few months back, after the two had finished their business in that bathroom, Japan had almost broken down due to the shock of realizing what they had just done. That was why they had not returned to Turkey for nearly fifteen minutes, because Greece was trying to take the time to comfort the small man. When Japan had finally come to, they had decided to further their show for Turkey and pretend that nothing was wrong. Then they agreed to enjoy the concert and the rest of Greece's time in Japan.

But as soon as Greece had left Tokyo a few days later, the awkward distance between them had begun to grow. Japan, still embarrassed from the event, had decided to focus on the rest of the world, trying to deal with all the current problems as a way of distracting himself.

The charade was over.

"I like you, Greece-san," he finally said, his whole face red as a piece of tuna sashimi. "I like you a lot. I just...don't know...how to deal with these feelings..."

Greece smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. I like you, too, Japan." He leaned closer to his webcam and said, "I'll help you however I can. What do you want me to do? Stay away or come closer to you? I'll do anything you want."

Japan swallowed hard. "I..." he tried to speak. "I...want you...I don't want you to stay away from me."

"Japan..."

"Alice Nine is playing a tour across Japan right now," the little Asian continued, cutting the Greek off. "The finale is going to take place on January 6, 2011, in Tokyo. Would you...come here to see it with me? I got the tickets months ago, but I...!"

Greece smile again. "I'd love to. Thank you, Japan. That's a wonderful Christmas present."

Japan finally found it in himself to smile again. He breathed a sigh of relief and began to feel something float away from him, probably that feeling of shame and embarrassment that had been plaguing him for so long. He felt light and free again, and his happiness began to return, despite the sulking feeling he had had earlier.

That reminded him of something. "Are you not celebrating Christmas right now?" he asked, changing the subject. "I thought Christmas was a big deal in your country."

At this, Greece frowned. "I need something to distract me. I can't eat for another few hours, not until dinner."

"Huh?"

"We fast for forty days in my country."

"Oh, my goodness, you must be starving."

"Yeah...I am. But at least I haven't had to go grocery shopping! That saves some money at least."

At that, Japan frowned again. "I don't like hearing you say that. You sound too much like Switzerland-san. It doesn't suit you."

Greece shrugged. "I got myself into this mess; I'm going to find a way to get myself out. I just wish people were rioting so much against the austerity measures. I can understand a peaceful protest, but so many people are getting hurt. I don't like it."

"That's awful," Japan agreed. "I'm so sorry to hear about that."

"Well, I'm going to go visit the seriously injured in the hospital later." The Greek smiled again. "That's what we do here on Christmas. Instead of buying lots of gifts for certain people, we visit those in need and bring gifts to them. They're the ones who need that joy, especially in these times. And then I'm going to go to the nearby churches and pray. After that, I get to eat again!" He laughed a bit and then smiled wider. "Remember how I said I saved a lot of money not shopping for groceries? I'm going to give it all away to the people in the hospitals."

Japan's eyes widened and he felt himself shake a bit. Greece could do so much with that money. It would probably be enough to buy him a plane ticket to come to Tokyo for the concert and to do many other nice things. Japan went to say something but stopped. Something clicked in his head, and he smiled.

"That's wonderful, Greece-san," he replied. "That's a very kind thing to do."

"Know what else is kind?" Greece asked. "Check your phone."

Japan raised an eyebrow but reached for his cellphone anyway. He flipped it open and saw that he had a new message from Greece. He opened the file only to see that it was a video. Immediately, he blushed bright red and looked back to the webcam. "Is this what I think it is?"

Greece laughed. "Before we gave that idiot his phone back, I sent a copy of our performance to my phone. Heh, now you'll always have me, have _us_, with you."

"Oh, my goodness..."

"But don't go drawing _doujinshi_ out of this, okay? Geez, Japan, I don't get you sometimes. You're so shy and conservative on the outside, but your country is one of the leading exporters of pornography in the entire world. You get embarrassed about yourself doing it but not about your characters doing it. What's with that?"

Japan was at a loss for words.

"Eh, no explanation is needed," Greece sighed, smiling. "It's all good. Anyway, I'm going to go out to the hospitals now, okay? Good night, Japan."

Japan managed a smile despite his flaming cheeks. "Have a good day, Greece-san."

"I will, thanks. Bye."

And he logged off.

Japan laughed at himself and closed his cellphone, setting it to the side. He then turned the _kotatsu_ off and got up. Pochi whined at the loss of heat and barked when his master got his coat on.

"You don't have to come, Pochi-kun," Japan called to the dog. "I'll be back later though. I have a better way to spend my money rather than losing it on department store sales." He slipped his winter shoes on and opened the door. "Keep an eye on everything while I'm at the hospital, okay? If you're good, I'll bring you a present!" And he left.

Pochi yipped happily and then snuggled back under the table, making sure the cellphone was safe. Of course that was what his master wanted him to protect. Whatever was on it had to be good enough to make his master blush like _that_.

END

Historical/cultural/whatever notes. In Tokyo, it rarely gets cold enough for it to snow, even in the winter. The snowiest month for Tokyo is usually February, and, even then, the city still only has an average of about three days when it does snow.

A _kotatsu_ is a heated table many Japanese bring out in the winter. It can be turned on and off like an electric blanket.

Less than 1% of Japan's population is Christian, so Christmas is usually about sales, marketing, and consumerism rather than the religious ideals or any charity organizations. Most Japanese people practice Shintoism, Buddhism, or a combination of both. Both religious have several gods and demi-gods rather than a singular God.

Commodore Matthew C. Perry of the USA first visited Japan in the summer of 1853. He sailed into Uraga Harbor (near Edo, which is now Tokyo) on a large, black ship, which both terrified and fascinated the Japanese. He also brought with him several machines, such as a toy train, which further sparked Japanese interest in modernization. During this trip, he threatened to attack Japan if the Japanese government did not agree to his trade demands. He then visited Japan again to find that nearly all his demands were met, and he opened trade with Japan to the rest of the West, beginning with the USA. Before this, the only Western power with which Japan interacted was the Netherlands, and the Dutch were only allowed to trade with the Japanese in Nagasaki. Thanks to this forced opening, Japan began to modernize quickly in order to keep up with the West. Japan was the first Eastern country to have an industrial revolution, and it did so in record time. (For example, what took Great Britain 120 years to achieve took Japan forty.) Japan then began a crusade to unite the East and make a name for itself in the West. It defeated China (which had been the strongest country in the East for thousands of years) during the Sino-Japanese War (1894-1895) and then Russia during the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905). This started a wave of Japanese attacks on other countries, which eventually led to Japan's decision to ally with Germany and Italy as part of the Axis Powers during World War II. After Japan surrendered to the USA in 1945, the USA (which was starting its Cold War with the USSR) decided to help Japan rebuild in order to keep the USSR from converting it to communism, especially with other countries like China, Vietnam, Laos, and North Korea turning to communism. The USA even wrote a brand new constitution for Japan, and that's the same one the Japanese government uses today! To this day, the USA and Japan are still close allies.

Greece is the top-ranked country for sex frequency in the world. Japan is in last place.

Athens, Greece and Tokyo, Japan are seven hours apart, with Japan ahead.

Alice Nine is yet another Japanese Visual Kei band. The date mentioned is their real tour finale date.

In Greece, as part of Christmas tradition, people fast for forty days and then have a huge feast to celebrate the holiday. Many people also spend their time visiting the sick and injured in hospitals and donating food and money to those people (along with to churches) instead of buying gifts for each other.


	6. 6th CT: So Happy I Could Die

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**The Christmas Tree Makes Me So Happy I Could Die**

_"Oh, please, Viking Prince Denmark! You must save my brother. He's been kidnapped by Evil Viking Sweden, and I'm so worried about him. Will you do it for me, please?"_

_"Of course, Humble Peasant Iceland!" the prince laughed, placing his hands on his hips and standing proudly. "I shall bring back your elder brother and restore peace to your land. Leave it to me!" He flashed a million watt smile and pat the little bird in Humble Peasant Iceland's hands, receiving little smiles from the both of them. He then turned, boarded his large, elaborate ship, and embarked off to Evil Viking Sweden's castle._

_Humble Peasant Iceland sighed dreamily. "Viking Prince Denmark is amazing..."_

_Viking Prince Denmark waved back to the little peasant and had his crew sail towards the tall, intimidating castle, never losing his grin. "Crew, I shall disembark alone!" he announced._

_The crew gasped. "No, Viking Prince Denmark! It's much too dangerous. We'll come with you as your back-up!"_

_The ship came to a stop next to the castle's dock, and Viking Prince Denmark jumped off, landing perfectly on his feet. He looked back to his crew, still grinning. "Nonsense. I could not possibly let you all run into danger. I shall defeat Evil Viking Sweden and return with Peasant Iceland's brother. Just keep an eye on my ship." And with that, he paraded off towards the castle._

_"We will, Viking Prince Denmark!" the crew shouted back. "We believe in you!"_

_The prince continued on towards the castle, crossing a moat and coming to the front drawbridge. He looked up and saw a little child staring down at him. "Hello, Sweet Child!" he called. "Please, lower this bridge for me. I need to speak with the viking who rules this castle."_

_The child shook his head and giggled. "Hee, Evil Viking Sweden told Little Mischief Sealand not to let anyone in. If Little Mischief Sealand let anyone into the palace, Little Mischief Sealand won't be recognized as his own independent self. That's not what Little Mischief Sealand wants!"_

_Viking Prince Denmark grinned again. "What if I told you I could recognize you?" he asked, his eyes sparkling handsomely. "Join me, Little Mischief Sealand! I shall recognize you as Powerful Empire Sealand!"_

_"Powerful Empire Sealand likes this!" the child agreed, nodding vigorously. "Powerful Empire Sealand like you! Powerful Empire Sealand will let you in!" The child waved and pulled the lever that opened the drawbridge. Viking Prince Denmark thanked him and promised to come back for him. The new Powerful Empire Sealand waved to him again and grinned, excited to take on his new title._

_Viking Prince Denmark continued onwards into the dark, lonely castle. His heavy footsteps echoed down the long hallways until he came across a large shadow figure on the stone wall. The creature looked to be extremely dangerous, and when Viking Prince Denmark looked towards where the shadow was coming from, a vicious guard dog leapt out and attacked him. Viking Prince Denmark pulled his large battle axe from its place on his back and held it out towards the dog. At the sight of the large weapon, the creature whimpered and began to cry. Strangely, it also began to shrink until it was nothing more than a tiny puppy._

_Viking Prince Denmark placed his battle axe back in its place. "Was Evil Viking Sweden forcing you to attack people?" he asked, kneeling down to the dog and scratching behind its ear. The dog began to smile and wag its tail. Viking Prince Denmark then took a hold of its collar and read the tag. "Adorable Puppy Hanatamago? That's your name?" He grinned when the dog barked. "What a perfect name for you! You can come with me, and I will create a brand new, wonderful life for you!"_

_Adorable Puppy Hanatamago yipped happily and jumped into Viking Prince Denmark's arms. The prince snuggled the puppy for a moment until a steel door behind him opened. There stood a young man in an apron with a sad look on his face. "What brings you to Evil Viking Sweden's castle?" he asked, looking like he was about to cry._

_Viking Prince Denmark frowned. "I came to save Humble Peasant Iceland's brother. Who might you be, and why do you look so troubled?"_

_The young man's lip trembled. "Oh, thank goodness," he gasped. "Evil Viking Sweden has been kidnapping beautiful people to make part of his kingdom. I was taken from my country only to be humiliated! He forced me to become his wife! I'm so sad but I'm supposed to be Joy Bringer Finland. You must help me!"_

_The prince grinned his famous smile again. "Fear not, Joy Bringer Finland, I shall release you as soon as I save Humble Peasant Iceland's brother. Please, take me to him!"_

_Joy Bringer Finland gasped happily and managed a smile. "Yes, of course I will! He is right beyond this door!" He led Viking Prince Denmark down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. He stopped at the door at the top. "This is where Evil Viking Sweden has imprisoned Winter Beauty Norway."_

_"So it's Winter Beauty Norway?" Viking Prince Denmark asked, opening the door. He stepped into the room and gasped. Sitting before him in a white room completely covered in snow-like fabric was the most gorgeous, beautiful man he had ever seen. He was so graceful and seemed to glow against the white lights streaming into the room through the open window. He looked towards the door, and his dark, endless eyes widened at the sight of the prince. Slowly, he tried to lift his long, almost ghost-like fingers towards the prince, but a large, gloved hand reached out and grabbed him, forcing him against the wall._

_"So you are Evil Viking Sweden!" Viking Prince Denmark declared, grabbing his battle axe. "Hand over Winter Beauty Norway. I do not want to fight you!"_

_"I will never give Winter Beauty Norway up," Evil Viking Sweden growled, pushing the lovely man to the ground. Viking Prince Denmark couldn't ignore that. He rushed towards Evil Viking Sweden and swung his axe. Evil Viking Sweden tried to fight back, but Viking Prince Denmark was too strong. The evil man fell backwards and fell out of the room's open window. He let out a roar and disappeared into the white nothingness below._

_Viking Prince Denmark ran to the former captive and helped him stand. "Winter Beauty Norway, I have travelled to bring you back to Humble Peasant Iceland, but I have fallen in love with you. I shall take you back to your brother's home, but I pray you'll accept my proposal of marriage." He clasped Winter Beauty Norway's hands and smiled, waiting for an answer._

_Winter Beauty Norway looked up at him and managed a tiny smile. "Yes," he whispered. Even his voice was elegant and beautiful! "Yes, I accept. I have waited for someone as strong and handsome as you all my life."_

_"Then we shall be married immediately!"_

_And so Viking Prince Denmark took Winter Beauty Norway back to his brother. At first, Humble Peasant Iceland did not want to give his beloved older brother up, but he soon handed him over with a smile and a blessing. Viking Prince Denmark and Winter Beauty Norway were married and lived in Viking Prince Denmark's glorious castle. Powerful Empire Sealand, Adorable Puppy Hanatamago, and Joy Bringer Finland moved in with them and enjoyed their new, happier lives. Humble Peasant Iceland became Fiery Spirit Iceland and moved in with them, too. The whole kingdom flourished and prospered, and the world soon forgot about Evil Viking Sweden. No other evil force ever emerged in the land ever again._

_And they all lived happily ever...!_

Denmark's eyes snapped open, and his pupils widened in surprise. He lay in bed in a dark room, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes shifted to the window at his side. Snow fell quietly outside. Then he looked back towards the rest of the room. It wasn't his room.

"Dammit!" he nearly shouted, flinging his limbs about until he finally stopped, flopped back onto the bed, and heaved a great sigh. "I'm in Sweden's place," he muttered. "This is his guest room. It's Christmas Night...or maybe it's December 26th already. Ugh, dammit!" He slapped his palms up against his face. "That was one of the best dreams I've had in such a long time! It was the perfect fairy tale!" He groaned and let his arms fall, sighing again. "Alright, alright, Den, it's over. It was just a dream. Get over it."

It was only after Denmark finished talking to himself that he realized he was alone in the bed. He looked to the opposite spot to find it was empty and cold. "Where's Nor?" he asked himself. He pushed the bed sheets off his body and headed out of the room. The hallways outside was dark, and the decoration lights in the living room were off. The house wasn't that cold, but Denmark couldn't help but feel it was empty when he realized he didn't know where Norway was.

"Where did he go?" he whispered. "This is our first Christmas...together."

At that moment, Denmark heard a series of beautiful sounds coming from outside. He looked to the window and saw a figure standing in the snow, holding something. A bit confused but also very curious, the Dane slipped his winter boots and winter coat on and headed outside to meet the figure. As he walked, he began to realize that it was Norway, and he was playing a violin.

Denmark was about to say something when Norway stopped the music and began shouting at himself. "No, no, no! That was wrong! That was the wrong note, Norway! Get it together!" He let out an irked groan and started playing again.

He was able to make it through a whole song without yelling at himself, and when he stopped, he heard clapping. Gasping in shock, Norway turned as a giant troll appeared behind him. The troll was just about to attack when they realized who it was.

Denmark kept clapping. "That was great, Nor. I didn't know you played violin!" He stopped and grinned his famous grin.

Norway's cheeks were bright pink, both from the cold and embarrassment. "I...I'm still just learning," he explained, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm not any good yet."

"I think you're awesome," the Dane offered, still grinning as he walked towards his lover. He gently moved some of Norway's bangs away from his face and brushed the fresh snowflakes out of them. "I'd love to hear more."

Norway was frozen in place, unable even to breathe. There was something so special and romantic about standing in the snow with little snowflakes still falling to the ground. It was cold but not cold enough that it was uncomfortable, and the world seemed so quiet and peaceful. He could see his breath as it came out in little pants and mingled with Denmark's. Above them, the sky was dark but not dark enough that it was impossible to see. It was too cloudy to see the moon or the stars, but little patches of light still managed to peek through. Time seemed to stand still, and Norway was quickly forgetting that he was alive. This was all too good to be true.

Suddenly, Norway snapped back to reality. He looked up at Denmark, who was smiling softly, waiting patiently. Norway had never seen him like this, like such an understanding, loving man. It intrigued him.

But, most of all, it made him love Denmark even more.

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding, "I'll play some more."

Denmark smiled wider and took a step back to give his lover some room. Shaking a bit, Norway brought the violin to his chin and began to play. It started out slow and unsure, especially with Denmark watching, but he slowly began to play with more confidence when he saw that his boyfriend was enjoying the show.

But then came that sour note. As soon as he hit it, Norway twitched and stopped playing.

Denmark frowned. "What's wrong? I thought that was great."

Norway shuffled a bit, embarrassed at his mistake. "...I told you that I'm still learning," he muttered. "I suck."

"No, you don't!" the Dane protested, shaking his head. "Nor, that was beautiful! You play so well! I don't know a lot of people who can play instruments that well. You have talent!"

Norway's blushed intensified. "I don't have any talent," he shot back, looking away. "I'm taking lessons from someone who does, and I'm just imitating him." He paused to collect himself and took a deep breath before speaking again. "Do you remember when my country won the Eurovision Song Contest last year? I asked Alexander Rybak to teach me."

Denmark's eyes brightened and he smiled brightly. "I remember him! He broke the record for most points ever received by almost a hundred. Oh man, you're taking lessons from him? Damn, Nor, you're going to be selling out concerts in no time!" He laughed and took in Norway's embarrassed flush, loving it. When he calmed down, he spoke again. "Can I hear some more?"

Norway nodded, still not looking at Denmark. "Sure. Let's see if you can guess the song." He managed the tiniest of smiles and began to play again.

A few notes in, Denmark had the answer. "That's 'Oah,' right?" he laughed. "Yeah, that's has to be it! 'Singing Oah, I love you Moa. You're way too young for me, but I don't mind.' Yeah, that's definitely it!"

Norway nodded. "Yeah, that's it. I don't know how to play all of this song, but I do know the chorus. Now try this one." He began to play the violin again, but this time he played it without the bow, instead strumming it like a guitar.

After a few notes, Denmark caught onto the song. "'Funny Little World'!" he exclaimed, smiling. "'And I don't know for sure where this is going. Still I hope for more and more, 'cause who would know that you would treat me like a boy, and I treat you like a girl in this funny little world.' I love the chorus for that song."

"Me, too," Norway agreed. He seemed happy until his smile faded. "Let me sing now..." And he began to play.

_"I won't blame the hurting on you. You left in the sweetest way. I won't say that it's you making me feel this way..."_

Denmark could only stand there in shock. Not only was Norway's singing voice beautiful, but he was singing...to him.

_"I won't claim it's all 'cause of you. I guess that I played a part. It's just that I never knew I'd fall for you from the start..."_

Just when Norway finished the second chorus, Denmark began to sing the rest. He reached out and grabbed Norway's shoulders, stopping him from playing. The smaller Nordic looked up at him, who was staring directly at him, with wide eyes. "What? You don't like it?"

_"I would never blame you for the heartache. I would never blame you for the tears."_

"Den," Norway gasped, tears forming in his eyes, "of course it's all my fault. Stop..."

_"I'd blame my stubborn heart, soul, body...Every single thing around me stays the same no matter what."_

Now Norway was crying. "Den..."

"Let me," the taller man insisted gently, easing the violin away from Norway. Reluctantly, Norway let go and allowed the Dane to take the instrument. He quickly rubbed his eyes and stared in shock as Denmark brought the violin to his chin and began to play.

As he began to play _perfectly_. He looked just like Alexander Rybak!

_"Years ago, when I was younger, I kinda liked a girl I knew. She was mine and we were sweethearts. That was then but then it's true. I'm in love with a fairy tale, even though it hurts, 'cause I don't care if I lose my mind. I'm already cursed."_

_"Every day, we started fighting. Every night, we fell in love. No one else could make me sadder, but no one else could life me high above. I don't know what I was doing, when suddenly, we fell apart. Nowadays, I cannot find her, but when I do, we'll get a brand new start! I'm in love with a fairy tale, even though it hurts, 'cause I don't care if I lose my mind. I'm already cursed."_

_"She's a fairy tale, even though it hurts, 'cause I don't care if I lose my mind. I'm already cursed!"_

Denmark finished the song on a grand note, playing the violin as charismatically as Alexander Rybak had done at the Eurovision Song Contest. When he finished, he stood proudly with a grand, bright smile on his face. Norway had already broken down into sobs.

Denmark laughed sympathetically and lowered the violin. "Aw, I'm sorry, Nor, I didn't mean to make you cry. This is too funny though! After Eurovision last year, I actually sought Alexander out and asked him to teach me how to play 'Fairy Tale' so I could play it for you. I was originally going to play it for you when I confessed, but...things didn't really go according to plan." He laughed again and moved closer to Norway, wrapping his large arms around him and rubbing his back soothingly. "Shh...don't cry, Nor, it's okay."

"So that's why Alex laughed when I asked him to teach me," the smaller Nordic sobbed, clutching Denmark's coat tightly. He buried his face and continued to cry. "I'm gonna haunt his dreams with troll spirits while he's on tour, I swear."

Denmark laughed again. "Don't be mad at Alex, Nor. Hey, at least he agreed to teach both of us!" He laughed a little and gently lifted Norway's chin up so they were looking into each other's eyes. "I love you, Norway. That's all that matters."

Norway gasped and nodded. "Yes," he agreed, "Denmark, I love you, too."

And they kissed.

From the little cottage, Sweden and Finland watched from their bedroom window. Sweden wrapped an arm around his wife and brought him close. Smiling, Finland snuggled up to Sweden's side and rested his head. "They're so beautiful."

Sweden blushed bright red. "J'st l'ke y'u."

"Aw, Sve," Finland sighed happily. He stood on his tip-toes and gave his husband a kiss.

Hanatamago let out a quiet, happy yip.

From his own guest room, Iceland, too, watched the couple outside. He and Puffin leaned up against the window and smiled. "Dear Big Brother has found his happiness..."

In his own room, Sealand snuggled under his thick, fluffy blanket and smiled. One eye peeked open and glanced out the window, watching the two Nordics. "Grown-ups are so weird about all that yucky love stuff," he giggled. He looked up at his Christmas gift hanging on the wall across from his bed, smiling at the Junior Country certificate. He closed his eye and buried himself into the covers, falling back asleep.

Denmark kissed Norway gently.

"Nor...you're my fairy tale."

Norway nodded, still crying, and kissed Denmark back more passionately.

"I'll never let it hurt again," he whispered when they paused. "I'll never let you feel cursed again..."

Denmark nodded and kissed his lover again. "I love you, Nor."

"I love you, too, Den."

END

Alexander Rybak represented Norway in the Eurovision Song Contest held in Moscow, Russia in 2009. He won with the song "Fairy Tale" and received 387 points. Before him, the highest score had been held by Finland's band Lordi with the song "Rock Hard Hallelujah," which had won 292 points. That was in 2006. In 2009, Iceland came in second place with 218 points, just to give you an idea of how monumental the score was.

"Fairy Tale," "Funny Little World," and "Roll with the Wind" (the unnamed song both Norway and Denmark sing) are from Alexander Rybak's first album Fairy Tales. "Oah" is from his second album No Boundaries.


	7. 7th CT: Teeth

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**Our Christmas Tree is Decorated with Teeth**

"THANKS FOR PAYING FOR EVERYTHING, JAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

"IS THAT THE ONLY REASON YOU CAME HERE?"

America gleefully skipped along down the streets of Tokyo in his Santa outfit, laughing and cheering the whole way. Japan had agreed to pay for his epic Christmas party! Now he wouldn't have to use taxpayers' money to hold his annual Christmas celebration, which was quite the relief to him considering the state of his economy and the taxpayers' low level of trust in the government. But with Japan paying for everything, there would be no problems! America laughed again as he entered another section of Tokyo. Puppy eyes worked every time. And Japan's thing with roundabout speaking had come in handy, too. Perfect!

Once he had finally calmed down (which took a little while), America made his way to the airport to head to the next country he would be inviting. Before Japan, he had invited several other Asian countries, all of which, happily, had agreed to come. But some of the invite sessions hadn't quite gone as well as he had hoped.

_-"If I invite you to my Christmas party and promise to give you a huge goody bag and slice of my awesome cake, will you reduce my debt a bit?"_

_"Ha ha! That's funny, America! No, aru. But thanks for the invite anyway!"_

_"...Shit."_

_-"Do you think that psycho north of you will be pissed off if I invite just you to my party?"_

_"America, that psycho north of me not only hates you and me...but also the rest of the world. North Korea will be pissed off no matter what we do, da ze."_

_"So...should I invite her as an attempt at making a bit of peace?"_

_"...You're an idiot, da ze. You owe me egg nog and a room alone with China."_

_-"So? Wanna come?"_

_"...Do I know you?"_

_"I was also a colony under England, but that was a long time ago."_

_"..."_

_"Hong Kong? You coming?"_

_"..."_

_"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'."_

America sighed at the memories. At least Taiwan, Thailand, Indonesia, and Malaysia had agreed to try to make it without much of a fuss. And no threats! That was a bonus! But the others...Oh, the world was just too messed up these days. America couldn't help but feel like some of it was his fault...okay, a lot of it. Yeah, he could admit that. But that was no reason to bring those feelings and grudges into Christmas! This was supposed to be the one time of the year when all the people all over the world were nice to each other and gave to others who needed it.

He had needed that reduction in his debt to China, dammit!

And for North Korea to calm the hell down!

And for Hong Kong to show some sort of emotion...Damn, he was worse than Norway.

Deciding to leave these thoughts behind, America snatched a sheet of paper from his bag and looked it over. Each country was listed according to continent. He smirked a bit at the angry elf face he had drawn next to Russia's name.

China, South Korea, Hong Kong, Thailand, Taiwan, Indonesia, Malaysia...there were a few more left America wanted (or was advised by his boss) to invite in Asia. He couldn't wait to get to Singapore and see if he really could get arrested for missing the trash can when throwing something away. And Macau was famous for gambling! It was the Vegas of Asia!

But there was one name before all those others that America couldn't ignore. Oh. He hadn't been _there_ since...No. He shook his head. He didn't even want to think about it. That had been his lowest point. He didn't want to go! He wouldn't!

His cellphone rang. "The Star-Spangled Banner." Of course.

"Hello?"

"America?"

"Hello, Mr. President."

"Have you invited Vietnam yet?"

Crap.

* * *

"Ah, that's perfect!"

Vietnam took a step back and smiled at her work. The tree was perfect, wrapped in glowing lights and popcorn and covered with tinsel. At the top, a star glowed with the help of a lit candle. At the bottom, beneath the tree, was a red rug with a winter-like design weaved into it. The snow stitching was so pretty that it almost looked like snow had fallen from the lower branches of the tree down onto the rug. But that was impossible. Snow didn't exist in Vietnam's country.

But she wouldn't let that stop her. With only a few weeks left to go until Christmas, there was no time to worry about the things she didn't have. Smiling, Vietnam gathered the boxes which had held her Christmas supplies and brought them into her storage space in the basement right beneath her home. After settling them to make sure they wouldn't fall, she headed back up to the main level of her home to make herself some lunch.

Until she heard a knock on her door. "Coming!" she called, running to the front door. She unlocked it and opened it with a smile, but the man standing there made the smile fade and her eyes widen in shock.

"...America?"

"Uh, hi, Vietnam...I, uh..."

Vietnam blinked several times before registering who this person was in her mind. She immediately snapped back to reality and stepped out of the way of the door. "Would you like to come in?"

America looked up and bit his lip. "Um...sure, thank you." He slugged his bag over his shoulder and stepped inside, taking his big, clunky boots off and leaving them next to the door. He then placed the bag on the ground and looked towards Vietnam, who was eyeing his outfit.

"Any reason why you showed up to my door in a Santa Claus outfit?" she asked, clearly confused. Last time she had checked, Christmas was still a few weeks away. Yes, it was December, but it was nowhere near close to the actual holiday.

America managed a smile and nodded. "Yes! There is a reason for that!" He reached into his bag and pulled out an envelope. He held it out for the girl and smiled brighter. "This is for you. It's an invitation to my annual Christmas party. I'd like it if you could come!"

Vietnam blinked again and observed the envelope. It wasn't fancy or decorated, but it did have the American President's seal on the back. Wow, so America wasn't kidding. She was invited.

She looked back up at him and smiled softly. "That's very nice of you, America, thank you." She took the envelope from him. "The party isn't on Christmas, is it?"

"Oh, no, it's a few days before."

"Good. I accept then. I'd like to be in my own country on Christmas Day." The Asian girl continued to smile until she noticed that America's cheeks were flushed bright pink. He was also starting to sweat. She smiled again, this time sympathetically. "You're such a dope to come to Southeast Asia in a Santa outfit," she nearly laughed.

America's blush intensified and he nodded. "Yeah, that was pretty stupid. I'm surprised I managed to get through Indonesia without passing out."

"You've already been to her place, and you didn't realize it's always hot in this part of the world?" Now Vietnam was laughing at America for his obliviousness. That was a bad habit of his indeed. She shook her head, amused, and motioned for the man to come further into her home. "I'll give you some lighter clothes. You might as well stay for a while. I was just about to make lunch." She grinned and stopped in the kitchen to put the invitation on the counter. Then she went into a back room and pulled out some traditional Vietnamese men's clothes. "I hope these fit," she said as she placed them into America's hands.

The man looked away, eyes half-closed. "Thank you," he murmured. "Which way in the bathroom?" He thanked Vietnam again when she pointed it out.

As soon as America was gone, Vietnam went to work in the kitchen preparing lunch, now for two people. She had initially planned to use the beef she had bought at the market earlier that day for both lunch and dinner, but she could manage to get to the market again, especially if America stayed for dinner.

She was just about done with two steaming bowls of _phở_ when America emerged in her kitchen. She turned when she heard his footsteps and smiled. "Good, the clothes do fit you. I was worried."

"They're really comfortable," America commented as he adjusted the outfit's sleeves. "I didn't think they would be so comfortable, but they're easy to move in, and they're lightweight."

Vietnam rolled her eyes. "Maybe because you're comparing it to a Santa Claus outfit."

"...Yeah, that might be it."

The Asian girl giggled a bit. "You haven't changed."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. I'm almost done here. Sit down."

America did as he was told and sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He kept his eyes on Vietnam and couldn't help but feel like he was doing something wrong. His former enemy from not too long ago was standing right there, making him lunch of all things! This wasn't supposed to happen! Initially, he had just wanted to give Vietnam the invitation and get out of her country as quickly as possible. It had nothing to do with the heat or the idea that he didn't like her. No, he liked her! She was fine! But something deep inside him told him he was making a huge mistake.

_"You are."_

America gasped.

_"Everything is wrong. You're not doing what your people want. Your people hate you and want to separate from you. There is no hope for you left."_

America shook his head and tried to concentrate on driving the voice out. "Leave me alone," he whispered. "I'm not doing anything wrong. My boss isn't doing anything wrong either. We're both just doing our best. We're trying so damn hard."

_"People will leave you."_

"No..."

_"I'll come back."_

"No...!"

_"You'll fade away and I'LL be the one in control."_

"NO!"

Vietnam gasped and nearly spilled the soup. She turned to America with wide eyes. "What is it?" she asked, breathless and worried. "Is something wrong?"

America looked back at her and shook his head, eyes wide with fear. "No...no, it's nothing. I'm fine."

There was no way Vietnam would buy that. "You just screamed for no reason in the middle of my kitchen! Of course something is wrong! What is it, America? You can tell me! If it's something you don't want anyone else to know, I promise to keep it a secret."

America couldn't believe it. She was willing to help him? She would try to make things better? He watched as she brought the two bowls of soup to the table and set them down, one in front of him and one in front of herself. She then sat down in her own chair and gave the man her full attention.

America was hesitant to speak at first, but the words soon came out clear. "I've...been involved in a lot of crap lately."

Vietnam nodded. "Yes, I know. I feel bad for you."

The man almost couldn't speak again. Vietnam was feeling bad for _him?_ The guy who stormed into her war with the label of "hero" and just made everything worse for her, causing years of suffering and communism? He couldn't wrap his mind around the concept, so he chose to ignore it. "I mean," he continued, "it's bad enough that my own country is having problems, but I'm involved with so many other countries and their problems that it's causing a lot MORE problems back at home. And that's making the people so angry. They're hating my boss, too! I know that a lot of the stuff he's been doing has been different for my people, but that's just because things have been the same for so damn long! Things can't get any better for a county unless that country makes some changes. It's the only way! Staying as we were would not help us! And, hey, I loved my old boss and everything. He made some mistakes, too, but all of my bosses have. EVERY person who has EVER led a country is going to make A FEW mistakes at the very least! But, seriously, he left a whole shitload of problems behind for my current boss to fix. I'm not trying to blame him, but...!"

"America!" Vietnam shouted, breaking the man's speech. She looked at him with big, sympathetic eyes and frowned. "America, I get it. You're talking to someone who has had her own shitload of problems over the past few decades. I know how much it hurts! But when things are bad, that means that they can get better. I'm sure that your boss loves you and your country, and I'm sure that he's trying his damnedest to get everything fixed. Trust me, America, it might take a while, but things will get better!"

America could hardly believe his ears. All that coming from Vietnam of all people? "I caused so many bad things to happen to you," he said without thinking, and he immediately regretted his words.

Vietnam, however, did not seem disturbed. She just shrugged and said, "You and a bunch of other people." Then she eyed him. "Is that why you're freaking out here, being in my home? Are you still hung up on all that?"

"I..."

"Look, America, it's _over_. I don't understand why you and your people can never put anything behind you. Even if things are over for decades, for centuries, your people still whine about them today as if that time is still going on. I can understand remembering the past, and I appreciate you thinking about me, but you need to get over this, America. Like you said, you have too many other things to worry about than what's over between us."

America looked like he was about to cry. "Vietnam..."

"Besides, my doppelgänger disappeared when the two parts of my country unified, so I'm not my own enemy anymore."

America nearly jumped out of his seat. "You had a doppelgänger?" he asked, voice shaky. He stared at Vietnam, not sure what to think. "When?"

The girl looked at him like he was crazy. "During the war, of course!" she replied, speaking as if the statement was obvious. "My country was split in half during that time. The northern half supported communism, and the bottom half didn't. I was the bottom half, and my doppelgänger was the top."

A million thoughts and questions swirled about in America's head, but he could only form one sentence clearly. "You..._didn't_ support communism?"

"Of course I didn't!" the girl shot back, almost offended. "I didn't want to become a communist country, but some people in my country did, so my doppelgänger was born. The only reason I didn't fade away when my country was united was because I realized that communism was the lesser of two evils. It was either that or put the people through more punishments and crap they didn't deserve."

"Then I...?"

"Sometimes you fought me, and sometimes you fought my doppelgänger. It didn't matter to you, because..."

"...because I only saw the communism."

"...Yeah."

Vietnam almost gasped when she saw the tears slide down America's cheeks. "Oh crap, America, don't cry!" she begged, jumping up and grabbing a tissue. "There, there, it's okay, I'm not angry! Like I said, it's over!"

"No, it's not that!" America said back, accepting the tissue and drying his tears. He sniffed a little and wiped his eyes before saying, "When I was having my own civil war, I had a doppelgänger. He scared the crap outta me. Every time I looked up, no matter what, he was there, staring at me with this huge, crazy smile. He _still_ haunts my dreams, and, now, because of all the stuff that's dividing my country, I can hear his voice in my head! He keeps taunting me, saying that he'll come back and take over. It...it scares me!"

Vietnam opened her mouth into a small "o" and placed her hand on America's arm. She then closed her mouth and smiled up at him. "Then show him your own teeth."

"Huh?"

"He shows you a crazy smile, confident he'll take over, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then smile right back. Be confident that he'll never take over, and he'll never replace you."

"Vietnam..."

"He BETTER not replace you! The world wouldn't be the same without its hero!"

America had no idea where it came from, but he suddenly found himself smiling. Vietnam smiled back and stood to give him a hug, wrapping her arms around him. She snuggled up against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "That's my gift to you. Merry Christmas, America."

_"Dammit,"_ the doppelgänger hissed, _"this isn't over, Union. I will come back; I WILL take over..."_

_"I'd like to see you try," _America thought back. _"And quit calling me 'Union,' would you? That's so 19th century."_

_"Da...mn...you..."_

And the voice disappeared.

Leaving a happy Vietnam.

And an America with a huge, heroic smile, which showed off all of his perfect, pearly white teeth.

END

Notes. Lots of people in Vietnam converted to Christianity while France was ruling it as a colony. That's why Vietnam practices European Christmas traditions in the story.

_Phở_ is a traditional soup dish from Vietnam. It's made with noodles made from rice, basil, lime, bean sprouts, peppers, and either beef or chicken.

The Vietnam War (1955-1975) was a civil war between the top half, which supported communism, and the lower half, which was anti-communist. The USA decided to intervene in order to protect the lower half from a communist takeover. It was part of the containment plan the USA created in order to contain communism, as the Vietnam War (known as the American War in Vietnam) was part of the USA's Cold War against the USSR. Other countries, such as Cambodia and Laos, were involved, too. I suggest looking up their involvement especially, because they are often overlooked, yet what happened to those countries is just as devastating.


	8. 8th CT: Bad Romance

**Author's Note:** Welcome back to Gakuen Hetalia. :) This is taking place during the timeline of _The Hetalian Fame_, during the winter break (so it's during the time Vash get his waitressing job in "Money Honey").

**Title: Hetalia's Christmas Tree**

**You and Me Could Write a Bad Romance Underneath the Christmas Tree**

Ludwig was so used to being alone that the very notion of it didn't bother him anymore. He had been alone for most of his childhood, as he had always had a very hard time making friends. From a young age, he had been more interested in more mature matters than other kids. While most of his classmates wanted to play outside, he would rather read a book inside. While other kids had no problem getting dirty or making a mess, Ludwig always enjoyed cleaning and keeping things neat. And whenever the friends he did make wanted to blow off homework and go party, he wanted to stay at home and study. Naturally, he had not been the most popular guy growing up.

That was why he had decided to go to Hetalia Academy for high school. Gilbert would call home in Berlin every so often to chat and tell his little brother about his awesome high school, and Ludwig dreamed of going to a school where no one knew him so he could potentially make new friends. After all, all of the kids who went to Hetalia Academy were from different places around the world and did not know each other, so they were all in the same boat when it came to making friends.

But there was one thing Ludwig had forgotten when he finally began his education at Hetalia Academy. He didn't really have to worry about Gilbert tormenting him, because the albino was busy with his own friends and studies. The two lived together in one of the rental homes that belonged to the academy, but they didn't look alike, so most kids who didn't know Gilbert or Ludwig didn't associate them as related, let alone brothers. So Gilbert wasn't the problem.

He was the problem.

His start at the academy had not gone smoothly. He was mistaken for an upperclassman several times by other students because of his height, and teachers mistook him for a student teacher or a new employee, despite the uniform all the students had to wear.

But all those assumptions were made by the people who were brave enough to approach him.

"Who's that big brute?

"Oh, my God, he's so scary-looking!"

"I bet he's a thug looking for a fight."

"And his voice is scary, too!"

"He sounds so angry when he talks."

"Does he really have to look so stereotypically German?"

"I bet everyone in his family is a Nazi. He probably is, too."

Nothing had changed between Hetalia Academy and his old schools. Sure, the teases were different, but it was all teasing nonetheless. The harsh comments, the eavesdropping, and the talking behind his back hadn't changed, and he tried to understand why. Growing up, kids had avoided him because they thought he was weird for his interests. Now they were avoiding him because he was German? No, it went a lot deeper than that. Gilbert was German, too, but he didn't _look_ German.

Ludwig had already hated himself, but he began to hate himself even more at the start of that first year. He couldn't help his face; he couldn't help if he always looked angry even when he wasn't. He couldn't help his pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes either. While it was true that some of his relatives had been Nazis during World War II, they had all been punished for their crimes, and no one in his family was proud of them at all. He also couldn't help the fact that his voice had changed early in his life as a teenager. While most boys' voices were just beginning to change, his was already deep and low like a fully grown man's. In general, he had hit puberty much earlier than other boys, so his body already looked like a man's even though he was still just a teenager.

He was scary.

And no one wanted to be near him.

"Ve, why are you eating lunch all by yourself?"

Looking up from his lunch of sausages and sauerkraut, Ludwig made eye contact with a small boy who looked to be a first-year student. He seemed naive and oblivious and sort of silly, based on looks alone. Ludwig hated that he always judged people based on their looks, but he had been the target of such practices all his life, so he couldn't help that either.

Ludwig looked back down at his lunch and then looked back up at the boy. "Uh...I always eat alone," he replied. What was going on? No one ever tried to talk to him!

The boy frowned. "That's so sad, ve," he said. "I would be so sad if I ate alone every day."

Ludwig cleared his throat, unsure of how to continue this conversation. Being alone for so many years had caused him to become extremely socially awkward. "I'm used to it," he sighed, looking back down at his lunch. "It's okay, really. Go on. I'm sure you have friends who are waiting for you."

The boy shook his head, smiling. "No, they can eat without me today, because I'm going to eat with you!"

And he sat down on the opposite side of the picnic table.

"I'm Feliciano Vargas! I'm from Rome, Italy. What's your name and where are you from?"

Ludwig could hardly believe what was happening. Someone was actually talking to him! And if that wasn't enough, this Feliciano Vargas was sitting at a picnic table across from him, wanting to eat lunch with him! He had even asked for his name! Somewhere inside him, Ludwig wondered if this was a prank. He had a feeling that, somewhere nearby, some group of kids was giggling and mocking him. But the little Italian seemed too innocent and genuine to do something like that. He seemed like he legitimately wanted to be around Ludwig, that he was truly interested in getting to know him. If that was true, it was too good to be true! But to have something like this, to have this moment, to have a potential _friend_, well, that was worth the risk.

"I'm...Ludwig Beilschmidt. I'm from Berlin, Germany."

"Beilschmidt? Oh! Are you Gilbert's little brother?"

"Little Brother." As far back as he could remember, even though he had once been smaller than Gilbert (he now towered over him by several inches), he had always been mistaken for the older brother. He was much more mature, much more responsible, and, nowadays anyway, looked older than Gilbert. Feliciano was the first person to ever say that Ludwig was indeed the younger brother. In fact, he was the youngest member of his family.

Ludwig slowly nodded. "Yeah...you know my brother?"

"Oh!" Feliciano laughed. "My older brother has a crush on one of Gilbert's friends, so I've always heard of him a bit. My brother is a junior! His name is Lovino, and he's kinda got a bad temper, so you might want to avoid him, ve. By the way, the vice principal here is my grandpa! Oh, and since the other vice principal is Gilbert's grandpa, that would make him your grandpa, too, right?"

"Yeah..."

"I knew it! Oh, by the way, what's that stuff you're eating? I've never seen anything like it before. Ve, I would offer you some of my yummy pasta, but it's so delicious that I wanna eat it all by myself! But...you're my special friend, so I guess you can have a little bite if you want. Do you want to try a bite of my lunch, ve? I made it from scratch last night and cooked it this morning!"

That had been their first meeting. Feliciano had, in that moment, become Ludwig's first true friend.

As soon as Feliciano had become his friend, things started to change for Ludwig. He no longer heard rumors about him and whispers behind his back. Kids started to respect him, and some of them even took some time to talk to him. Gilbert introduced him to his friends Francis and Antonio, who both took the time to introduce him to their friends. Being around Feliciano helped, too. The Italian was quite popular throughout the school, so when students saw him and Ludwig together, they began to realize that Ludwig wasn't such a bad guy.

Feliciano had done more than become his friend. He had become his savior.

And then they had somehow transformed into being more than friends. Ludwig still wasn't quite sure how or why it had all happened. He wasn't even sure if he truly loved Feliciano. He had never loved anyone other than his family members before, so he wasn't sure if the feelings he had for the Italian were true love. All he did know was that he didn't have these feelings for anyone else, nor had he ever had them for anyone, so he decided that they were love.

He loved Feliciano.

And Feliciano, he knew, loved him back.

So that could probably be why the little Italian had showed up on his doorstep at his home in Berlin earlier that day. When he had opened the door to reveal his boyfriend covered in snow, he probably shouldn't have been so shocked.

After he had wiped the snow off and brought Feliciano inside to warm up, he couldn't help but ask his boyfriend the obvious. "What are you doing here, Feli?"

Feliciano giggled as he snuggled underneath the cozy blanket by the fireplace. His cheeks were pink from the cold, and his face glowed from the fire. "Ve, I remember you telling me that you were going to be alone on Christmas Eve. That's not very happy!" he giggled. "So I asked Grandpa if I could spend Christmas with you, and he got me a flight to Berlin! Wasn't that nice?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. Feliciano could be so simple-minded. "It's not like I'm completely alone," he replied. "My brother is just out with his college friends tonight, so he'll be back here tomorrow morning. My grandfather was out on business until the last minute, so he's taking a train tonight and will also be here tomorrow morning."

Feliciano frowned. "But you'd still be alone tonight."

"What about your family?" Ludwig shot back, the question sounding a lot harsher than he meant it to be. He instantly regretted his tone. "I thought Italians spent their Christmases together with their families."

"Oh, Lovi and Grandpa have each other, so they're not alone," Feliciano replied, smiling again. "And they both said it was okay if I was here with you. Well, Lovi didn't say it was okay. He mostly shouted about how you were a stupid potato bastard, but that's okay, because Grandpa locked him in the basement to keep him from preventing me from leaving. Ve, wasn't that nice of Grandpa?" He giggled and scooted over so he could rest his head against Ludwig's shoulder. When he was comfortable, he let out another giggle and latched himself onto the German's arm. "Ve, Ludwig's muscles are so big and warm~"

Ludwig gave up trying to make sense out of his boyfriend. As much as he loved him, Ludwig couldn't understand Feliciano. Make that "Italians in general."

Sighing, Ludwig released his arm from Feliciano's grip and instead wrapped it around his boyfriend. Feliciano let out a little squeal of happiness and cuddled up to him, wrapping his arms around the German's torso. He loved the feel of Ludwig's body. Even though his muscles and skin were covered under a thick, warm sweater, Feliciano could still feel them move underneath him. He loved that.

Feliciano looked up past his boyfriend to observe the Christmas tree. It was huge, bigger than any other one he had ever seen. Granted, he had never seen one in Germany, where the tradition had originated, so he had never seen a true Christmas tree. It was covered in bright, multicolored lights, sparkling tinsel, and several ornaments. At the top was a bright, glowing star. Next to the tree, on the shelf above the fireplace, were several small statues of angels and saints. Below the tree, next to the fireplace, was a nativity scene. Feliciano smiled at these things. To see them in Ludwig's home made him inexplicably happy.

Suddenly though, Feliciano lost his smile. He looked up at his boyfriend seriously. "Ludwig?"

"Hmm?"

"I...have something to ask you."

Ludwig looked down at the little Italian surprised at just how serious he was. "Yes? What is it?" Whatever it was had to be extremely important.

Feliciano blushed a bit and further snuggled up to his boyfriend. "Well, ve, my big brother is graduating this year."

"Yes, I know."

"And...your big brother graduated last year."

"Yeah..."

"So you've been living here alone."

"That's right."

"...I don't want to live alone next year."

Ludwig's eyes widened. All of a sudden, he knew what Feliciano was talking about, and he knew what he was going to ask him. He wasn't expecting it. In retrospect, knowing Feliciano, he probably should have seen it coming, but he couldn't help it.

"...Ve, Ludwig, can we...live together...next year?"

"Feli..."

"Oh, please say I can live with you!" Feliciano begged, taking his arms away from Ludwig and clasping them together in front of his face. "Please, please, Ludwig, I don't want to live all alone in that big, scary house! Grandpa has his own apartment, but it's only made for one person, so I can't live with him. Please let me live with you, Ludwig! I promise to keep the house clean. In fact, I'll do all the chores and make all the meals and be quiet and not bother you and-!"

"Feliciano!" Ludwig interrupted. "Feli, calm down! Don't get so upset over this. I haven't even said anything yet!" He took in the desperate look in Feliciano's eyes and sighed. "You don't have to do anything like that. I would expect you to be responsible for your own things and doing your fair share of the housework, but there's no need for you to act like a maid or a housewife. I wouldn't make you do that."

Feliciano's eyes widened with hope. "So...does that mean...?"

Ludwig blushed and looked away. "Yes," he murmured, feeling shy and embarrassed, "you can live with me next year...and the year after that, too, if you want."

Feliciano squealed and wrapped his arms around the German, bouncing excitedly in his spot. "Oh, Ludwig, thank you, THANK YOU!" he cried happily. "Thank you so much! I promise to be the best housemate ever!" He squealed again and squeezed Ludwig with all his strength. He was so happy. He was going to be living with the man he loved more than anything else in the world! Even more than pasta!

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ludwig pushed Feliciano off his body and attacked his mouth with passionate kisses. Feliciano blinked in surprise but quickly melted into the kisses, wrapping his arms around Ludwig's neck. He kissed back, bringing his hands to the German's hair. The blond strands fell through his fingers as he brought his bangs out of their slicked-back position and down to his forehead, where they belonged. He always thought Ludwig looked better when he left his hair down. Feliciano smiled into the kisses when he felt Ludwig's fingers thread through his own auburn locks.

Eventually, they broke away for air. They both panted a bit, breath mingling between them. Ludwig's cheeks were stained an adorable shade of pink, and Feliciano brought his hands to them to feel their warmth. This was perfect. It was Christmas Eve, and he was sitting in his boyfriend's home, making out with him by the fireplace, the two of them all alone. Nothing could be better.

At least Feliciano thought so.

But Ludwig had different plans. He glanced at the side of Feliciano's head and twirled his finger around the little curl of hair there.

The reaction was immediate and quite pleasing. Feliciano let out a gasp and a moan as he began to shake. He clung to Ludwig and panted as his boyfriend continued to tease that little bit of hair.

Ludwig smirked and leaned down to the Italian's ear. "Feli," he whispered in a low, husky voice, "want to see my Christmas tree?"

"Huh?" Feliciano panted, genuinely confused. "But, Ludwig, I can see your Christmas tree right there in the corner. It's really big and impressive, and I like it a lot, and...huh?" Suddenly, Feliciano felt something poke him. "What?" he gasped, still panting. "What's that? It feels like a sausage and...OH!" Feliciano's eyes snapped open in realization, and his cheeks flushed bright red. He clung to Ludwig and tried to hide his face in his boyfriend's chest. "Oh," he repeated, this time softer, "well, ve, THAT Christmas tree is really big and impressive, too. And I like that one a lot, too...ve..."

Ludwig chuckled a bit, the sound rumbling low in his chest. Feliciano shivered, feeling that strong rumble against him. He allowed himself to be lifted up and out of the living room, down the hall, to Ludwig's bedroom.

* * *

It was amazing. That was the only thing Feliciano could think as he cuddled up next to Ludwig, who had fallen asleep. The Italian rested his head on his boyfriend's chest and listened to his heartbeat, loving the sound. Such a beautiful, perfect, comforting sound it was. Feliciano loved it.

He loved Ludwig, too, with all his heart. Making love to the one person he loved more than anything, even more than pasta, was the greatest feeling in the world. Ludwig held him and loved him and made him feel special and was more concerned with satisfying him than satisfying himself. Feliciano loved it. He loved everything about Ludwig.

"I wish I were a girl, Ludwig," he whispered. "Then we could get married, and I could become your wife. And I could have your children. I want a big family. I want lots of little boys and girls with blond hair and brown eyes running around. Or maybe with brown hair and blue eyes, ve." He snuggled deep into his boyfriend's embrace and sighed, letting his eyes close. "That's my Christmas wish, Ludwig. I want to marry you and be your wife and have lots of babies and give you a big, happy family so you'll never be lonely again, ve. Because..." He yawned and closed his eyes.

"...because I love you so much."

* * *

The next morning, Gilbert was the first of the family to arrive. "HEY, WEST!" he shouted as he slammed the front door open. "YOUR AWESOME BIG BROTHER IS HOME! YOU BETTER HAVE GOTTEN HIM SOMETHING AWESOME FOR CHRISTMAS! Kesesesesese!" He laughed and ran to the Christmas tree, loving the stack of presents underneath it. There was a big one with his name on it! Laughing triumphantly, Gilbert ran to the kitchen, expecting to find his little brother making him breakfast, but the room was empty.

Confused, Gilbert walked throughout the rest of the house, looking for his younger sibling. "West!" he called. "West, the awesome me is not pleased that you are not here, wishing me a Merry Awesome Christmas. Come on, West! Get your un-awesome ass out here so I can open my presents!"

Finally, Gilbert came upon his brother's room. He knocked a few times and, when he got no answer, reached for the knob. He opened the door, expecting to see his brother's bed made and neat.

Instead, he found his brother and Feliciano, sleeping together, probably naked underneath those blankets, in each other's arms as they peacefully dreamed the morning away.

Gilbert automatically smirked and reached for his phone. "Kesesesese," he laughed. "Time to update my blog." He reached his phone out to take a picture but stopped when he saw his brother stir. But he didn't wake up. Instead, Ludwig only moved to bring Feliciano closer to his body. Then he went still, continuing to sleep.

Smiling softly, Gilbert put the phone away and walked out the door. "Just a few more minutes, West," he murmured as he shut the door. "I wanna open my presents soon. But, heh, it looks like Feli already got his. Kesesesesese!"

With the door shut, Gilbert walked back to the living room to wait for his grandfather.

"Merry Christmas, West."

_Light me up; put me on top._

_Let's falalalalalalalala!_

_Light me up; put me on top._

_Let's falalalalalalalala!_

_Ho, ho, ho, under the mistletoe,_

_Yes, everybody knows we will take off our clothes._

_Yes, if you want us to we will._

_You, oh, oh, a Christmas,_

_My Christmas Tree's delicious!_

_Oh, oh, a Christmas._

_My Christmas Tree's delicious!_

END

Merry Christmas, Everyone. :)


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